Cold Flame
by Regin Ash
Summary: Plagued by a past life, Thrax must come to grips with the ghosts that won't leave him alone. (Sequel to Can’t Burn Fire with Fire and A Slow and Beautiful Burn)
1. Chapter 1

_Upper East Side_

 _Cerebrum_

 _11:36 pm_

Daemon couldn't believe he let his guard down so easily. Only four months in the new host and he had been doing good up until he met with the Nephrons. _A stupid name for a gang… not very intimidating at all._ The sharp pain stretching down his left side was beginning to get to him. He cursed the newest ammunition that was stupidly handed out to the public by Cerebellum Hall. One would think the government's finest would have been smart enough to keep such a volatile substance locked up. Now every gang and amateur moron who liked to have a firearm were most likely in possession of the shit. _Cytosine._ He stumbled, landing on the stoop of a porch. _I should get moving… before Immunity sees me._ But he couldn't move, his side was burning sharply now. He pulled his coat away, hoping the wounds weren't as bad as they felt. He was left with disappointment at the sight of the black plasma-like liquid oozing out of the holes put into him by three of the Nephron members. _One is dead, the other one likely not to make it-serves him right… the last one is the messenger._ On second thought, maybe he should have made sure all three were dead. _Doesn't matter now._ He could feel the poison slithering through him, creeping up over his left shoulder. If he didn't get medical attention soon he wasn't going to survive the injuries, that much he knew.

"Are you okay?"

He froze and then slowly looked up. A female cell was standing in front of him, her large eyes concerned. Then there was the flash of surprise and apprehension. _She didn't realize what I am._ _Idiot._ "Yeah." He muttered, and tried to stand, losing his strength and landing back on the stair.

"You're hurt. You need help."

Daemon bore a hole in the ground, wishing the woman would go away. Then he had a thought. _All I need is one minute tops. She's skinny but there should still be enough to her to give me strength again._ It wasn't often he used that hidden ability of the Red Death. But if the opportunity rose he could drain a cell to harvest their energy which in turn gave him his strength back. _Maybe enough to close these god damn holes in me._ "I suppose I do."

She glanced around. He could see she was clearly wrestling with whether to aid him. _She'll do it, these cells are pathetic. Can never not help someone._ "I live on the third floor… do you think you can make it?"

 _Sure can._ He grasped the porch railing and pulled himself up again, this time succeeding in standing. She climbed the stairs, passing him and opened the front door. Ignoring the pain, he followed.

….

He watched her fight with the door for a few minutes comically, until it thrust open half way. After that she had to shoulder it open. She lived simply, in fact from the sparse furniture she was most likely poor.

"I'll get my med kit." She disappeared, leaving him alone.

 _Stupid. Idiot. She's either dense or too trusting._ Pictures caught his eye to the left of him. A couple of painful steps and he could see them better. They were family pictures by the looks of it. A few of them had her, shyly looking away from the camera.

"I'm back." Her voice was soft.

He took a breath. _I'll kill her after she cleans me up… it'll help me heal faster._ He turned and stood awkwardly by the couch, wondering why she was laying two big large towels on it. She turned.

"You can sit."

For a split second he had trepidation about sitting on the couch. He was ridiculously bloody from the cytosine bullet wounds. He had expected to sit on the floor or toilet or something. Jerkily he came forward and sank down. She didn't look at him as she carefully reached out and pulled on his coat sleeve to pull his arm out. Gritting his teeth at the agony, he shouldered his way out of the rest of the coat. She stared at his side and left arm, silent. And then she picked up some scissors.

"I have cut… your-shirt off." She whispered, clearly embarrassed.

He resisted rolling his eyes and simply said, "do what you have to."

…..

If he thought he was in pain before, he realized he was horribly mistaken. Whatever antiseptic the she-cell was using, it felt like he wasn't going to have a left side of his body left. He felt his right hand grow warmer. Disjointed, he looked down at his hand gripping the couch armrest, the finger that made him everything he was beginning to glow like fire. _Shit._ He forced the pain thoughts out of his head and focused on his hand to stop it from igniting. He didn't need to unintentionally start a fire. After a moment, he was satisfied as it cooled.

"What happened?"

Her quiet question cut through his concentration. He glanced at her as she wrung the rag in a bucket. "Made a mistake."

"What kind of mistake?"

He glowered at the far wall. "Trusted someone I shouldn't have."

"Someone who aided you in a criminal activity?"

He had to admit she was smart, smarter than he had given her credit for. "Yes." He flinched as she pressed some lacrimal ice against his skin.

"When I'm done what do you plan to do?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What?"

She finally met his gaze. "What is your next plan? Stay here? Kill me and stay here until you fully heal… or leave?"

He stayed silent, unsure of how to answer. She brought him into her apartment, fully suspecting he was going to kill her? What moron did that? _A compassionate moron._

"I don't know yet."

Surprising to him, she accepted that answer with a nod before continuing her work.

….

 _Weeks_

He didn't kill her that day or the day after that. Despite her best efforts he remained weak from the cytosine; so, he stayed and waited for the corrosive shit to leave his system. The first week even he had to admit was awkward. He couldn't leave the apartment most times as he couldn't risk being seen by others. And _she_ \- trustingly left him to go to her two jobs, returning late most days. _Trusting isn't the right word, more like she doesn't have a friggin choice._ By the second week he was feeling a crushing sense of obligation to keep the apartment looking like only she lived there, no trace of him. He slept most times, never turning the TV on as that would surely run up her bill. _Why do I even give a shit?_ He didn't understand any of it. The day she took him in he had been planning her murder to sustain himself and now he was lying on her couch. _Almost dozing._ Scraping in the key lock woke him completely. Slowly he sat up, resisting a groan as the fibers in his back hadn't loosened since he was shot. Stiff.

"Hi." She set a grocery bag on her kitchen counter.

He didn't turn to face her. "Hey." His eyes strayed to the clock. _She should be leaving soon… be gone half the night like she usually is._ Behind him he could hear the cabinets and fridge opening and closing. Preferring the silence, he sat back on the couch. At some point her soft footsteps left the kitchen and paused next to him. Then she sat on the far end of the couch.

"I have off tonight." A red sheen came over her face. "I'm being dragged out tonight. A couple of friends from work-" She gave an embarrassed laugh. Then her large eyes focused on him. "Are you feeling- better?"

He shrugged, the motion still stiff. "I suppose." He cracked his neck, feeling some of the stiffness fade after. "I figured I'd leave either tomorrow or the day after."

She studied him. "So no murder?"

"What?"

"You've chosen not to kill me?" There was no emotion in her tone of voice, only acceptance.

He stared hard at her. "Do you want me to?"

She didn't answer, instead she changed the subject. "What are you?" Her eyes roamed over him, taking in his lean but sturdy appearance. His eyes, the purple dreads. "I've seen a lot of viruses and yet, I've never seen someone like you."

"We don't have a name. There aren't enough of us to warrant being identified as something. Someone somewhere dubbed us El Muerte Rojo. But sounds a little stupid to me."

"And you kill?"

"Spike the host's temperature to 108 or higher… cooks the body from the inside out."

"Host?" He glanced at her. She stared back calmly. "Is that like a defense mechanism for you? So, you stay removed from what you do? Unfeeling?"

He knew he should feel anger at her questions; they were becoming a little too close to psychoanalysis. But he didn't. His kind didn't stick around each other so friendly conversation was sparse. _Too much competition._ And compared to other lowlifes, the El Muerte Rojo were a different breed, a breed that was feared and ultimately avoided. He wondered once or twice why…. Just why? He was built to entice. No virus like him was ugly to look at. His exotic looks drew in fascinated cells. Cells who let their guards down too easily. Most of the Red Death were narcissists and if they weren't narcissists then they were bonafide psychopaths. _Or they are both._ He was different. Always had been. He heard from someone that his type had something called a kill gland. He didn't know how true it was. _Mine must be broken._ Sure, he plotted to kill others but most times he only did it when he was in situations like he was with the Nephrons. _Forced._ He didn't have an overt urge to kill. He glanced down at the long infinity bracelet looped around his wrist. Two beads pulsed gently. One came from a team-up with another virus. He hadn't killed the host, they did. The other was his first and only kill. An elderly man with no family, dying of cancer. He liked to think of it as a mercy killing. He realized he never answered her question.

"Makes it easier, yeah." He glanced at her. "What kind of picture does that give you of me?"

She chewed her bottom lip. "I don't know." She opened her mouth to saying something but the conversation was cut short by knocking on her door.

"Lara!"

It was in that moment he realized he never asked her name in the almost three weeks of him squatting in her apartment. And she never asked his.

"Oh god…." She turned to frantically find the time. "I'm late… like really late." He studied her, his gaze tracing the sides of her face and her delicate body. For a cell she was pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way. She stood like she didn't know what to do first. She bit her lip again. _A nervous habit._ "I feel… bad leaving you here, especially since I'm off work."

 _She wants to stay here with me, willingly?_ The idea was strange to him. _Why would she want to do that?_ "Don't."

She didn't move. "You'll still be here, right?" She asked haltingly. "When I come back?"

He jerked his head. "Yeah."

She gave a hesitant smile. "Okay."

….

 _3 Months later_

It took him a moment to realize where he was but then he dropped backwards, hitting the pillow. Next to him Lara stirred.

"You okay?" She asked sleepily.

"Yeah…"

More awake she moved so that she was resting against him. "Your hand is hot again." She had long ago learned of the dangerous nature of his right hand. In response, he flexed it.

He tried to remember what led to him lying next to her in bed for the past month and a half. Was it the fact that he couldn't get warm? He didn't know… Maybe it was the close quarters. He kidded himself into believing there were iron clad excuses on why he hadn't left her apartment and moved on with his life. But in the end, they were excuses. _Lame ass excuses._ Lara grew on him. He went from skulking around her apartment to leaving the apartment via her window and climbing up to the roof to hop across the buildings, following her as she went to her jobs. He learned through observation she was a waitress in a diner and a book store clerk. She loved books and yet was shy, so he was surprised she held a job as a waitress. It was her who initiated the first touch between them. A movie was on and it was late, she began nodding off. Eventually like it was natural to her. She rested her head against his shoulder, shifting to get more comfortable. They woke up the next day with her laying half on him. A few days passed with them only sitting on the couch and most times falling asleep together. Then one night she took his hand and stood, pulling him to her bedroom. He wanted to object, feeling dirty compared to her. He was a virus and a dangerous one. She was a cell, delicate and innocent. He didn't want her being tainted by his world. _By me._ Only two days' prior he lost control… the two of them did. He sincerely hoped nothing would come of it. He hoped.

….

It was the wretched coughing he heard first upon returning to the apartment with some glucocorticoid tablets. He wasn't even sure they'd work but Lara insisted. Every morning and half the days she spent in a vicious cycle of nausea. He felt responsible, her vomiting like she was could only mean one thing.

She trudged out of the bathroom, looking miserable. With no words, he steered her around back to bed. Usually she complained but this time she didn't. Before getting into bed she pulled on a hoodie, the action moving her shirt around to show her stomach. Then he saw it. What he had hoped would not be. Feeling like he was on autopilot, he stopped her, gently holding her arm out.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He closed his eyes and then opened them to look at her. "Lara, you're pregnant."

….

 _Present time_

 _Esoph-Landing Apartments_

 _2:23 am_

Thrax woke to a dark room, occasional city lights lighting up the blinds. His head in a fog he remembered the concoction he downed before bed that Grace would have killed him over if she knew. He knew his limits to a point. While it was frowned upon by the humans to take medications and alcohol at the same time; the same went for the citizens of Frank. Yet Thrax had done it so many times over his life he was beginning to wonder if the warning was a myth. He turned over and saw the bed was empty save for him. Had Grace gone into work? He didn't remember a pager going off. He rose on his elbows and then noticed a dark shape sitting next to his bedside.

"You know, I try not to be demanding and nagging and a control freak but-" Grace reached over and turned the lamp on suddenly. With his sensitive sight, it blinded him; he was sure that was her intention. "-are you _trying_ to friggin kill yourself?"

Finally, he could see and saw an empty armpit bottle and the bottle of pills given to him by a doctor she forced him to see two weeks' prior; the two items in each hand.

The office visit was winding down and he thought he was in the clear until Grace blew his cover and told the doctor about him and his bad dreams. He wanted to be mad at her but it was next to impossible for him to ever feel anger towards her or Lindi. He wished he could but the only thing he did know about his species of virus was that they had a very strong bonding ability. Most just didn't tap into it. And that bonding technique is what kept him from ever feeling anger towards the she-cell. Grace knew it by now, after combing the Cerebellum Hospital library, looking for any information on the El Muerte Rojo; and the woman used that ability or curse, in his opinion, against him. Yet he couldn't even be angry with her over that. It was very irritating.

"One or the other doesn't work Grace." He muttered, sitting up straighter. "It does togeth-"

"I don't give a rat's ass what works and doesn't work. This is how people die Thrax. They are so relaxed after mixing meds and alcohol they stop breathing. I was hoping it was a one-time deal but you've been doing this every night for the past week." She stood. "And I've barely slept because I'm too afraid you'll stop breathing and if _I'm_ asleep I won't know it." She stood up abruptly and disappeared into the bathroom

He wanted to say she'd be better off if he did keel over and die but he knew a comment like that would set her over the edge. Better to nod his head and apologize for making her worry. But he couldn't do it.

"I'm a lot-" He winced at the sound of the bottle hitting the trash can.. He hoped it didn't wake Lindi since the girl had impressive hearing like him and could probably hear a fart over on the lower side of the parathyroid glands.

"Don't worry." Grace reappeared, having guessed his thoughts. "She's still asleep. Calmer she continued, "And don't tell me you are stronger than the rest of us because there have been two instances where you were seriously incapacitated."

He glowered at his hands, knowing fully well what two instances she was referring to. He tried hard to ignore the deep, thin scars on his left hand. He never did find out what was used to crush his hand. The surgeon who fixed it surmised it had to be a kind of plaque block due to the severity of the trauma and how his stratified fibers broke so easily.

"This is going to sound incredibly selfish, but I'm tired of not being able to sleep. Every night something happens. I'm as tired of it as you are." He looked to where he had left the bottle and the pills. "So if I have a chance to fall asleep and not disturb you, I'll take it."

She studied him quietly, then she came back over and sat next to him, her purple irises holding against his golden ones.

"I'm sorry… it's just-"

"Don't apologize." He murmured.

She watched him for a few minutes, quietly. "It's just, I love you Thrax and I don't want something bad to happen."

He inhaled. "I love you too." He said softly.

She inched closer until he could feel her body radiating off him and then she rested her head against his forehead.

….

 _Past_

 _9:15 am_

"Mi hijo. Mi hijo."

Thrax ignored the sister as she called out to him in Spanish. He was still reeling from the turbulent emotions of fighting with a moronic four-armed asshole who thought he was better than everyone else. Being five years old didn't stop Thrax from feeling intense anger at hearing his mother be insulted. He didn't remember her, only that she was not with him. The assumption made was that she was dead but he couldn't be sure. He had grown up in the convent, a small compound that sprawled over the left hip bone. It was where other children like him grew up. _Orphans._ He didn't know where his father was either or if he even had one. He knew he should care about him being alone in the world but after growing up with no one to call family he found it didn't bother him… until it was blatantly and callously pointed out to him. That was why he had no regrets knocking Dozer Ischium to the ground, the index finger on his left hand coming alive against his bully's neck. It took two young orderlies to yank him off.

Now he sat on the far end of the compound, a large spacious cavern in front of him, preferring to be alone. But Sister Angela had found him. He liked her more than the others. "No puedes pasar por la vída luchando contra otros mi hijo."

"Yo se." He muttered. He heard the gravel crunch as she closed the distance between them.

"Qué podría haber hecho el joven Dozer para enojarte tanto?"

The anger returned in full force. It made him want to go find Dozer again. _I can kill him. I have the power to do it._ "Se lo merecía!" He snapped. He hadn't meant to sound so angry, especially to Sister Angela but he was beginning to hate that insolent shit-bag. Defeated, he admitted what led to the fight. "Insultó a mi mama. La llamó una puta."

The sister gave him a sympathetic smile. "O mi hijo. A veces la gente necesita poner abajo otros para hacerse sentir mejor." She came and sat next to him. "Pero mi hijo, no está bien colocar palabras malas con acciones malas."

Thrax looked out over the vast landscape, glowering. Then he felt himself reach his boiling point. "No es justo! Trato de mantenerme alejado de ellos como dice el Padre Micca y se meten en su camino para encontrarme e insultarme. Estoy cansado de eso!" He threw a small plaque pebble he had been rolling around in his fingers, stewing. Sister Angela listened intently to him like she always did. It made him wish she was his mother but the opaque bluish-white membrane contrasted too absurdly against his hard-red membrane.

"Sometimes life throws us curveballs. We have to learn to dodge them."

"I don't want to learn to dodge them." He grumbled.

The Sister smiled gently. "Come. Dinner is being served soon and if I remember right, you are scheduled with the cleanup crew this time."

His anger slowly fading he let her pull him up. Then she pulled him into a hug as they walked back to the convent. "Conoce este mi hijo, estás destinado a grandes cosas. Puedo sentirlo."

 **...**

 **No puedes pasar por la vída luchando contra otros mi hijo** : You cannot go through life fighting against others my son

 **Yo se** : I know

 **Qu** **é** **podr** **í** **a haber hecho el joven Dozer para enojarte tanto?:** What could young Dozer have done to make you so angry?

 **Se lo merecía!:** He deserved it!

 **Insultó a mi mama. La llamó una puta** : He insulted my mother. He called her a whore.

 **O mi hijo. A veces la gente necesita poner abajo otros para hacerse sentir mejor** : Oh my son. Sometimes people need to put down others to make themselves feel better.

 **Pero mi hijo, no está bien colocar palabras malas con acciones malas** : But my son, it is not okay to place bad words in with bad actions.

 **No es justo! Trato de mantenerme alejado de ellos como dice el Padre Micca y se meten en su camino para encontrarme e insultarme. Estoy cansado de eso** : It's not fair! I try to stay away from them as Father Micca says and they go out of their way to find me and insult me. I'm tired of it

 **Conoce este mi hijo, estás destinado a grandes cosas. Puedo sentirlo** : Know this my son. You are destined for great things. I can feel it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Present time_

 _Esoph-Landing Apartments_

"Hey." The chipper voice paused. "Are you sick?"

Thrax jerked awake. "No…." He then groaned and slumped back, half hidden by the blankets. "Uhhh-yes."

Lindi laughed. "He's not going to bite."

"Who isn't going to bite?" He asked. He cracked an eye open and saw none other than Shaine Flavum standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Flavum. Shouldn't you be behind a desk?"

"We have the day off today, remember?"

Thrax grunted his reply. He did remember and forgot until just then he was saddled with two teenagers for the day. "But I'm in here to tell you we're going out."

 _Thank god._ "Sure. Stay out of trouble."

"I always do." She sounded a little indignant.

"I didn't mean you."

He heard her laughter again. Reaching out sluggish, he found his phone and looked at the time. 7:05 am. He didn't need to be at work and so he was going to take his sweet time getting out of bed. A happy whine reached his ears. Turning over he saw Luka had lost no time taking Grace's spot, her stubby spotted tail gyrating. "What do you want?"

Luka happily squeaked, army-crawling her way closer to him. He rolled his eyes. "Fine." He let the pup weasel her way closer to enjoy the heat radiating off him.

….

 _The past_

 _Age: 8 years_

 _Upper Pectoralis Major_

"You know the Sisters will kill us when they find out we are skipping school."

Mactavish scoffed. "You mean IF."

"I mean when." Thrax snapped.

The germ turned to confront him. "If you're so scared of them why you here?"

The red death virus glared at him. "You know why and I'm not scared of them."

Kobe thumped Mactavish. "Knock it off. You know Dozer is itching for the chance at payback. He's safer with us."

Mactavish tsked. "You aren't worried because you know your mother will smooth over any arguments." He stomped ahead, muttering to himself. "You comin' or what?" He yelled over his shoulder.

"Por qué hacer usted alojar consigo, why do you put up with him?" Thrax grumbled.

Kobe laughed. "Yo ignorer le."

"Hey!" Mactavish snapped. "Quit yapping in Spanish and let's get moving before some nosy cop finds us wandering around and slaps us with a truancy fine."

…

Any apprehension about skipping school faded when Kobe let Thrax help with low-level construction work like clearing away debris from the site the two older germs worked at. He was coming back from getting a drink from the cooler when he heard the foreman confronting Kobe about him.

"I can't have a kid runnin' around here, K? You know that." The stout cell pulled his hard hat off to itch his balding head. "If the big man comes and sees him, I'll be shut down for endangering a minor. A lotta shit can happen."

Kobe sighed. "I know… it's just-"

"Just what?" The cell asked, exasperated.

"Listen, he's got no one. I watch out for him especially since he's a target for some of the morons at the orphanage." Kobe drew a line in the ground with his foot. "Besides he's kind of like my little brother."

The foreman sighed. "Fine. Just keep him away from the actual zone. I don't need him hit or squashed by something, alright?"

Kobe nodded and then noticed Thrax standing not too far away. "Stay away from the machinery. I don't need you run over." The older virus paused next to him. "Don't take what he said like you aren't wanted."

Thrax took a breath. "I know… am I really like your little brother."

Something like embarrassment crossed Kobe's face, then he shrugged with a grin. "I gotta have someone to balance out Mactavish."

Tentatively, Thrax shared the smile before sobering. Even though he knew Kobe wasn't blowing smoke up his ass, it still drove home the fact he was alone in the world. "Yeah. You do." He agreed.

Kobe threw an arm over his shoulder. "C'mon. I'm sure Mactavish has more debris he's been pretending are the people he hates, for you to pick up."

…..

It was later he waited for Kobe and Mactavish by the gates as the two wrapped up their project. Cells passed by him, barely sparing a second glance at him. He didn't know if he was insulted at being treated like he was invisible or not. A voice cut through his thoughts before he could decide.

"Why would a cute, beautiful, little child such as yourself be alone?" The voice was feminine and belonged to a tall, extremely thin female, dressed strangely in Thrax's opinion as her wardrobe seemed a little too formal for that side of town. Her skin was pale white, her eyes red and ringed with dark bags like she hadn't slept in years. She had an intensity in her stare that immediately put him on edge. This woman was creepy. _And dangerous…_ Then he remembered her choice of descriptive

 _Cute little child?_ "I'm not a child." He didn't know this woman and had no qualms about being rude to an adult. Chances were he'd never see her again once he got rid of her.

A guarded expression crossed her face too quickly for him to decipher what it could have meant. "You're right." She cooed. "But nonetheless, you are out here alone. Do you have a mother?"

The woman gave him the creeps and his instinctive turn-off to her only heightened as he caught a whiff of the unmistakable smell of decaying. She was no regular cell.

"Yeah." He lied. "She's expecting me."

"Well I could take you to her if you'd like. This isn't such a friendly part of town, especially for someone so young like yourself."

"Darling." Another joined her, a whip-thin male with the same haughty expression and equally odd choice of clothing. "Oh, have you found a pet?"

This time Thrax knew what her look meant as annoyance flashed across her face; she straightened abruptly to face her companion. "He is not a pet." She looked back at him. "Are you? Don't you see Vinícius? He is El Muerte Rojo… so rare. There are so few left."

Thrax didn't know what they were talking about but he wished Kobe would hurry up. His prayers were answered.

"Can I help you?"

The feeling of dread disappeared as Kobe came up alongside him. The woman's eyes glittered as she studied him. "We were just talking to your young friend here. I was concerned as to why he was standing alone. This is such a bad part of town."

"Yeah? Well we got everything under control." Mactavish surprisingly piped up. "You two can take a hike."

The two strangers weren't insulted by the germ's brusque response, on the contrary they were amused.

"I catch you near him again, you're not going to like the consequences." Kobe added.

The male laughed. "Is that so, mi amigo?"

"No soy tu amigo, comprende, I'm not your friend, understand?"

"I believe I do." The male murmured as his diseased eyes landed on Thrax again. "Have a good evening." With that he turned, arm in arm with the woman and disappeared into a crowd waiting for one of the transit buses.

"What did they say to you?" Kobe demanded the moment they were out of earshot.

"Only asked if I was alone and if I had a mother."

"What did you tell them?" Mactavish was quick with the questions too.

"I said I had one and she was waiting for me." Thrax looked past Kobe in the direction they had gone. "She offered to walk me home."

Kobe straightened. "God damn creeps. You did good, but if they or anyone else comes around come get me." Thrax nodded. "K kid. Let's get you home before the Sisters and my mother think we ran away, taking you with us."

…..

Once a week if a Sister so chose, orphans could be taken home for the weekend. While even though Sister Angela knew she was playing favorites, she couldn't resist the El Muerte Rojo boy, especially since the other Sisters were gracious but kept their distance from him. Her adopted son Kobe already spent a lot of time with him, the fifteen-year-old never complained about having an eight-year-old follow him everywhere. It was enough for her to toy with the idea of maybe giving the boy a permanent home, virus or not, the child was unlike any other she had ever met. _Besides Kobe._ He was sweet, smart, strong willingness to please, but there was a sadness in him, something he hid until it reared its ugly head every time he got into a fight. She sighed to herself as she lit some wax candles. She was aware of the organ all the viruses like Thrax had, the kill gland. The children were either born evil or some like Thrax, were good and simply tainted by their heritage. _And yet sometimes they lose their way later in life._ She lowered the match, waving it to put out the flame. She remembered the father well, coming to the convent with the tiny infant. The male virus's overall mood was one of deep pain. She and Father Micca did not need clarity as to what happened for the virus to be there, surrendering his infant son to them with no mother present. What Father Micca later needed an explanation on was the virus's demeanor, he didn't understand why the virus cared about the dead mother. Sister Angela didn't need to have it spelled out to her. It was clear to her the polite, but anguished El Muerte Rojo virus was grieving hard, though he hid it well. While she chose the path of celibacy, she couldn't imagine due to anatomical differences having to avoid a sexual relationship with another because of possible harm to the partner. Yet that was what happened. Sister Angela shared his sadness and promised to take good care of the infant boy. Her guess was as good as anyone else's where he might have gone. If she were to take a stab, she was sure the father was long gone, probably even left the body, unable to stay due to the remembrance of the woman he loved and ultimately killed.

…

 _Present_

 _11:23am_

"YO!"

Thrax growled lowly to himself under the blankets as he heard his FPD partner yell out his signature greeting. For a split second, he cursed himself giving the white blood cell a key to the apartment until he remembered it was Grace who gave her sister Leah a key and Jones had to have borrowed it.

"You're still in bed? What are you, sick?"

The same question being asked to him a second time in a span of four hours was enough to make him want to strangle the cell. He couldn't strangle his daughter, but the cell he could probably do so and not feel terribly bad, at least not at first. _Damn… I'm reformed._

"Yes. Leave me alone." His voice muffled under the blanket.

"Viruses like you don't get sick." The white blood cell, Osmosis Jones, continued like Thrax hadn't said anything. "C'mon. I've been told to get you up and out into public." Thrax rolled his shoulder blades but otherwise didn't move. "Of course…" The cell continued, amusement creeping into his tones. "If you want, I can leave you alone and then you can be hit with a surprise gathering later."

"What?" Thrax croaked, finally turning over to look at Jones. "What are you talking about?"

Jones shrugged. "We only live so long dude, gotta celebrate our birth days each time we get them."

"Hell no." He disappeared again, this time pulling the pillow over his head all the while trying to figure out how Jones even knew. _My application they sent me… fucking A. I knew I should have left the birth day section blank._ He could feel a headache coming on. Luka thought he was playing and began trying to dig her way through the pillow to get him, it only made him tighten his grip on it.

Jones laughed. "Aw c'mon, it isn't that bad. Be up in ten or I'm coming back in here with my phone camera this time so I can send evidence to Grace that you're wasting the day away in bed."

"Oh fuck you." His retort was muffled but he knew Jones heard him because the cell chuckled again, his footsteps fading into the kitchen. Laying under the pillow he could feel the heavy cotton-like feeling of a hangover in his head. He didn't want to get up. _It was the armpit and the pills… Grace would love this opportunity to tell me 'I told you so.'_ Slowly he pushed himself up, feeling each fiber and membrane stretch and or pop. _I hate that cell…. If only I had killed him the first time around… before I reformed._

….

 _Lower East Side Cerebral_

 _11:25am_

The cortex mall was busy as Lindi and Shaine weaved around other shoppers. With Frank in good health the busyness of the cellular occupants had exploded. _Almost like the human stock exchange._ Lindi thought as she walked. If all was good with the economy, then all was good with pretty much everything. There were many passing them hunkered down by bags. Maybe she was different. Even though the cells in Frank were obsessed with doing their part in keeping him healthy, there was still a driven importance for materialistic stuff. One would have thought after so many of the cells passing her, thinking the world was ending when a certain Red Death virus almost single handedly killed Frank, that their priorities would have changed permanently. The same went for the Ehrlichiosis Crisis a month ago; but apparently, the citizens of Frank had short memories or maybe the 'out of sight, out of mind' was true to form.

"What are you thinking about?" Shaine's quiet question interrupted her wandering thoughts.

She glanced at him. "Nothing. School." She lied. She didn't know why she couldn't admit her distain for the passing cells around her. _Cells like me…._ She paused. But they weren't like her or rather she was not like them. Whatever sort of metamorphose she had gone through, it finished just a week prior. She still retained the red blood cell form but her membrane was decidedly less opaque and harder, instead of filling out into a more adult cell form her body did the opposite by tightening like the human's saran wrap around a bowl. Her fibers were clearly defined earning her stares and even some callous comments about how she needed to eat more and stop being anorexic. The last time she lost her cool and yelled at the woman. The biggest most noticeable change that she still didn't know how she felt about it, was her eyes. At first the change was gradual, her original grey eyes lightening and blending into a light greenish-yellow until she woke up one day and looked in the mirror, stunned. They were the same color as the virus who raise her. A golden-yellow. Despite retaining clear red blood cell characteristics, she almost resembled Thrax now and it unnerved her. The best explanation given was the RNA proteins she was exposed to as a baby had a semi-sentient component to it. She hadn't understood until Grace piped up.

 _"What are you saying?" The she-cell asked, not blinking as she stared at the elderly cell who was an acclaimed doctor in the epithelial department. "If she and I lived together, alone, she wouldn't have changed as much?"_

 _The doctor took his glasses off, cleaning them with a cloth. "Yes. The RNA is of virus origin so the fact that you live with a virus, the RNA copied his physiognomy. But it is a very weakened strain so it can only change her so much. She will retain the red blood cell qualities but appear as a hybrid on the outside-"_

Lindi didn't come out of her room for two days after that visit. It was only after Shaine threatened to break her door down with Thrax glowering at him from the kitchen, she finally emerged, not before hearing Shaine say he wasn't _going_ to break something in Thrax's house.

"I guess today is Thrax's birth day but knowing how him, he doesn't want it acknowledged."

"Fair enough I guess." Shaine then grinned. "Should we buy those glitter herpes thingys? How old is he?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Glitter herpes thingys?"

"Yeah, the ones that have different shapes, words and numbers. Confetti. We can sprinkle it everywhere."

"He'd kill us."

"Nah, he'd kill me not you. He loves you. I think he's still waiting for the excuse that gives him the green light to kill me."

She laughed. "No, he isn't."

Shaine shrugged. "Fine. No glitter herpes…. This time." They reached the food court. "Hungry?"

She nodded and took his offered hand.

…..

 _Past_

Unlike most of the other orphans, Thrax's day of birth was known, something he didn't how he felt about. He never felt like he was entitled to acknowledging the date markers that signified when he grew older. And yet the day he turned to the equivalent of ten was when his life changed drastically.

It was the last class of the day; Sister Angela's one rule was he needed to stop skipping school if he was to live with her and Kobe. He loved living with her too much to risk the opportunity so he went and made it a point to avoid Dozer and his cronies, though by then they were constantly under the watchful eye of Sister Lena and Father Micca. He was starting to head home… it was still strange to him that he considered Sister Angela's modest cottage home… when his name being called stopped him. A Sister was gesturing for him to follow her. She led him to the main building on the campus and into the head priest's office. There Thrax stopped dead in the doorway. Sitting across from Father Linus was the strange woman and man who confronted him at the construction site almost too long ago to remember. He had completely forgotten their existence, yet it didn't appear they forgot about his.

"Thrax. Come in. Sister you may go." The Sister inclined her head before giving him a gentle push so she could shut the door. "Come Thrax." The Father motioned for him to step forward, he did so feeling a heavy weight of dread at having them so close to him. Why were they there? And why was Father Linus okay with them being there? "I was just talking with this lady and her husband about you. How would you feel about having a real home?"

"I have a real home." The reply was automatic as his thoughts turned to Sister Angela and Kobe.

"Oh Thrax." The Father's tone was sympathetic, but it was the kind of sympathetic that hinted towards Thrax being stupid and or delusional. "That is a temporary set-up, you know that. This time it could be real. What do you say?"

Thrax didn't answer because he didn't want to. He didn't want to be near those people, let alone live with them.

"It is okay." The woman purred. "I understand his emotional state perfectly. It is a shock really when a big change such as this comes along."

The Father beamed, making Thrax for the first time in a while, want to punch something. How could the Father be snowed so easily? Then it hit him. What if he wasn't being snowed… what if he knew there was something wrong with the picture but was fine with continuing? His thoughts turned to Jimmy Process and Melody Joint, both were red blood cells and from what Thrax heard, both were thriving in their new forever homes. But then there was the case of Daren Nail, a hybrid microbe and white blood cell, he went to a home blindly and was found in a drug house raided by Immunity looking for 'adrenaline rushes' a new street drug. Last Thrax knew, the kid was still in rehab struggling to kick the addiction after abusing heavy loads of it. It looked to him Thrax was about to be the next unfortunate case.

"I don't want to leave."

Father Linus pouted at him. "Now Thrax. This is a great opportunity for you… besides don't you want another child to get the chance to come here and possibly get a home too?"

The question caught Thrax off guard as the insinuation registered. They thought his presence was a nuisance as he remained there instead of leaving so his bed could be filled? They wanted him gone. _Except Sister Angela._ The door banging open startled everyone as Father Micca appeared out of breath. "Father Linus, I must speak with you."

"Later Micca." Father Linus dismissively waved him away but the Father didn't move.

"Please Linus." The cell abandoned proper titles. "It is urgent."

Father Linus grumbled under his breath and stood, not hiding his annoyance. "Please excuse me." He swept by Thrax and shut the door behind him, leaving him with the two strangers. For what seemed like forever, silence reigned in the room until the woman broke it again.

"I would think you'd be happy for the chance to leave this place."

Thrax looked right at her. "Not when I know I'm being collected as a trophy." The "perfect smile" lost some of its perfection at his retort.

Then the male stepped forward, towering over him before bending to his level. "Then let us put it this way… that Sister you love so much. Imagine we leave and you stay here, what if she were to have an accident?" He paused for dramatic effect. "And you not accepting our offer was the cause for her untimely death?"

The threat scared him at the thought of anything bad happening to Sister Angela and the man was right, if he did stay it would be his fault. He couldn't live with that. From the two's expressions, they knew they had won. So, when Father Linus returned, slightly flustered, Thrax didn't say another word in argument.

…..

 _Present_

 _1:45pm_

Thrax should have known going out with Jones didn't always mean his days off stayed as days off. The scanner in the cell's car was always on low volume and if there was the slightest disturbance nearby Jones was on it whether he was needed or not. Sometimes it made Thrax wonder if he should have taken the promotion when Freddy Veins and Charlie Vessel had offered it to him, then he wouldn't be constantly crashing investigations with his gung-ho partner in the driver seat. He always received sympathetic smiles from fellow officers when they saw them drive up and the virus get out only to lean against the car, out of the way.

The latest broadcast was a pock-fighting ring going on in the downtown district of the parathyroid glands. By the time they arrived the party was over and there were just a few germs standing around smoking plaque sticks. Thrax was ready to call it a day when one of the germs paled, his countenance making him look sickly.

"What's your problem?" Jones asked as he flipped his notebook shut and noticed the germ's reaction.

"Nuthin'…" The germ continued to stare at Thrax to the point it was unnerving him which was hard to do. "It's just…" He turned to a friend. "Don't he look just like 'im?" The friend nodded slowly.

"Yeah."

"Yo! Look like who? What are you talking about?" Jones demanded. "If you don't spill in five seconds I'm gonna arrest you for simply aggravating me."

"There's a newcomer, just passin' through I guess." The germ glanced at Thrax again. "Ain't too many of those types around."

"What types?" Jones wasn't done.

The germ pointed. "'im… El Muerte Rojo, right? Heard about 'im. How he almost took down this body and now he reformed… just sayin' there's a newcomer… you look alike. Like identical."

Jones asked the obvious before he could.

"Do you know where he went?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Past_

The room shook as a subway rumbled overhead, its wheels shaking and rattling over the uneven tracks and caused dust particles to rain down from the eaves. Jim had been a model health fanatic; followed the food pyramid, worked out, took care of himself. That was then, George didn't share the same virtues.

The rough worn fabric of the couch rubbed his cheek as he slowly came to, his body stiff when he shifted. The one room apartment was dark and cold. _And empty._ It was going on four days since his new guardians-he couldn't acknowledge them as mother and father, were gone. They left without saying much, as usual. Twice he crashed, so starved he resorted to the dumpster behind the motel for protein. He always had that problem, when he didn't eat he got sick and weak. No other germ to his knowledge had that issue. As psychopathic as the woman Spyrah was, she was oddly attentive when she was around, in a very aloof manner. She figured out quick his eating problem and so _when she was around_ she always made sure to have some meal laying around for him; but when the two bacteria were gone five days out of the week consecutively, he was on his own for food. _Like now._ He thought as his innards rumbled in protest. Sitting up he thought back to the day Spyrah and Vinícius showed up at the orphanage. He heard before he left what Father Micca wanted to say. To warn. Sister Angela was in Father Linus's office the moment Father Micca told her. Nothing changed Father Linus's mind. Not that they were bacteria, not that they had no references, not that there was a story just the other night about two highly dangerous bacteria wreaking havoc on Jim's intestines, creating serious problems. Nothing mattered to Father Linus, except his empty bed which couldn't get empty fast enough. Sister Angela begged him to let her take Thrax. But the answer was no. Thrax wanted to stay to fight for his right to stay with Sister Angela forever, but the threat resurfaced in his mind every time.

" _Then let us put it this way… that Sister you love so much. Imagine we leave and you stay here, what if she were to have an accident?" He paused for dramatic effect. "And you not accepting our offer was the cause for her untimely death?"_

He couldn't let her suffer for his selfishness or Kobe. Looking around the empty sparse room, he wished he was with her even more. Her and Kobe. But he couldn't dwell on that now, it only fed the anger. He stood, turned off by the notion he was going to have to dumpster-dive again. Then it hit him. Why did he have to eat other people's garbage just because he lived with less than desirable adults? He grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled his hood up.

…..

He felt some guilt at stealing from the convenient store around the corner from where he was staying, but self-preservation overrode morals. Gave the word convenient a whole new meaning. He was quick and precise, that was why he never got caught. He just finished a protein sandwich when he entered the apartment to see _they_ were back.

"And where have you been?" Vinícius asked, his lilting tones measured and yet Thrax could tell he was treading dangerous waters but he didn't care.

"Out." He walked by the bacteria, pulling his hood down and running his hand through his dreads. Vinícius stood by a light switch, a delicate hand reached out and flicked it once. The Up, Down motion sounded like it echoed around the room.

"And where is the electricity?"

Thrax rolled his eyes. "You didn't pay the bill before you two went on your little mini vacation. The landlord told the electrode company to shut it off."

An eye twitched as Vinícius stared at him, then the bacteria moved with a speed Thrax wasn't expecting and a hard hand smashed him across the face. It felt like a plaque ball hit him. It wasn't the pain of being hit but the searing cold that chased the impact that shocked him. He thought it would go away but it didn't, it only intensified as a look of malicious satisfaction crossed the bacteria's face. Thrax couldn't move to get away when Vinícius grabbed him. "Do not cross me little one, do you understand? I can easily end your pathetic existence." It wasn't so much the words as it was the calm voice that unnerved the virus. Spyrah drifted closer, silent, her face shadowed. Thrax didn't answer, his jaw frozen in a white-hot agony. Vinícius's grip tightened. "Do you understand me?"

Firm hands grasped Thrax by his thin shoulders. "Yes Vinícius." She murmured soothingly. "He does understand."

The bacteria didn't lose the silent rage but he let go and stood, straightening his clothes. "He better." He stalked away, lighting a plaque stick. Spyrah took her own lighter, lit a particle paper and stuck it to Thrax's cheek without a warning. The fire mixing with the ice made the pain worse before the ice slowly ebbed away.

"You would do well to not push him." Her red eyes bore into his, emotionless. She watched the fire spread across his face. "It would be unfortunate to have to kill you."

…..

 _Present_

"The hell was he talking about?" Jones asked, barely in his seat after leaving the germ to finish his cigarette. "Another one like you? You think he's dangerous?"

"I don't know." Thrax was eager to forget about it. "The germ was high Jones, probably hallucinated the whole thing."

The white blood cell stared at him, his mouth hanging open. "You're kidding me, right? That was a joke?"

"No. It wasn't." Thrax snapped.

"Dude, Thrax my man, even you aren't that stupid. You believe those guys _hallucinated_ an El Muerte Rojo virus standing with them? I didn't even know what the hell an El Muerte Rojo was, thought it was taco sauce or something…. No one knew what you are." The white blood cell stared out the windshield. "We gotta call it in."

Thrax closed his eyes. He knew it too, but was hoping Jones wouldn't say it. He didn't know why he was reluctant to do so. Who knew what reason this new virus had for being inside Frank. Thrax knew the damage he did, it didn't take much to imagine what new havoc could be created.

….

 _FPD: Precinct 13_

 _2:30pm_

"Nothing has come from Customs about this new guy." Immunity Chief Daniel "Freddy" Veins looked up from his computer. The youngest to make police chief, Veins was Thrax's saving grace when it came out Charlie Vessel was retiring. After all the enemies Thrax made during the Ehrlichia Crisis, he could have easily been removed from the Immunity force, but with Freddy behind him, he was safe, for now. "And security has been tightened since…." Veins paused, glancing at Thrax. "-since you know…" The chief cleared his throat. "So there's no way he just walked into this body. Somebody would have seen him."

"No one could be paid off to look the other way?" Jones was pacing, a habit foreign for the cell.

Veins narrowed his eyes. "No. Absolutely not."

"You sure?"

Veins took a breath. "You want to be the one to go question Boone and his interview tactics, be my guest."

"Well." Jones was out of possible scenarios. "This guy was adamant."

Veins twisted a pen in his hands. " _Well_. Thrax told me the two were higher than kites."

Jones shot the virus a look, one Thrax ignored. "They didn't imagine the guy Freddy and you know it. No one including you or me, knew what the hell a virus like him was until he showed up. Hell, half of Frank still doesn't know what his classification is and they don't care to remember the name. This guy knew, he said the name. El Muerte Rojo."

"First, calm your shit. And second, sit, you're annoying me with your pacing." Jones paused and then threw himself into one of the chairs.

The office door opened, Lt. Amoriah Lingula entered with a small stack of papers. "This is the registry list at Immunity Customs for the past three weeks. We didn't see any names that stood out."

Veins sighed, feeling a powerful headache come on. "I'll get Tom on the line."

….

 _Immunity Customs: Station 9_

 _3:36pm_

Leah Estrogen walked with an air of authority that most of the time got her where ever she needed to go. People were taken back by her demeanor and so, often couldn't formulate a response quick enough before she got what she wanted. Her brisk walk and no-nonsense vibes almost helped her get through the doors of Station 9.

"ID?" A burly half microbe stopped her. She pulled her lanyard up for him to see but he wasn't impressed. "You know how many of those Cerebellum Hall aides we get in here, snoopin' around, telling us how to do our jobs? Too many. Access denied." The microbial-cell tried to shut the door in her face but a boot stopped it from closing completely.

"I suggest you fix your attitude and let her in." Thrax wasn't in the mood to deal with idiots. "Or I'll gladly get Colonic on speed dial and tell him you, _Officer Caps_ , are obstructing an investigation and being an asshole to his head assistant."

The microbe's mouth snapped open and shut like a fish a couple of times. "No need for that! Fine, come in. Sorry Ms. Estrogen. I didn't recognize you."

"Didn't recognize her my ass." She heard Thrax growl behind her. She resisted a smile as she approached the front desk.

"Leah Estrogen. I'm here to review the footage one of your commanders called Tom Colonic about."

The female cell picked up a phone. "Just a moment."

…

"Yeah. We didn't think much of it at first." Commander Julian Ulna led them to a room with a wide screen TV. "He uh-kinda looked like you." The cell pointed at Thrax. "The ID agent is new… we talked with him and he actually stated he thought it was you. Although it is strange we let it go without question."

"You got a twin you don't know about?" Jones asked, as a joke but Thrax failed to see the humor in it. After a moment Jones lost his smile. "Sorry, bad joke."

Leah crossed her arms. "Every cell and microbe that comes through this station and the other nine are to be checked, no corner cutting, no excuse what so ever. This could possibly be a serious problem. Your new customs agent better hope nothing bad comes of this. We could have a potential class 3 criminal on our hands."

The commander turned redder than he already was. "I know. I take responsibility for his actions. We will do whatever needs to be done to detain this threat." The commander jabbed the pause on the footage. "There. He's right there." He pointed. As the picture sharpened, even with the hood up, the virus's face was recognizable for what he was. El Muerte Rojo.

…..

 _Cortex Mall_

The mall was packed, the sheer volume of cells started to get on Lindi's nerves. Shaine must have either picked up on her irritation or been just as annoyed. "Ready to go?"

She sighed in relief. "Yes!" The two just reached the escalators when she ran into someone. "Oh, I am sor-" The apology died in her throat as she stared up at Thrax. Then she blinked. _No. Not Thrax. He's too old to be Thrax._ She was taken back by the likeness. Were all Red Deaths so similar in features? Like clones? _No._ She decided. _His face is different and he looks tired… really tired._ She thought it was just her that was taken back by the virus, but Shaine was frozen too, staring at him.

The virus didn't show any signs of him noticing their astonishment, he simply stared back at her for a moment before walking away. She watched him go, stunned. Then it hit her. He was an El Muerte Rojo virus; before Thrax reformed he tried to kill Frank DeTorre. He only reformed because he lost his memory and by the time he remembered everything he was in love with Grace. But this virus, did he have an agenda like the old Thrax did? She didn't know what to do.

"What do we do?" She whispered.

Shaine took a step forward to be next to her. "Let's go. We'll figure it out."

….

 _Past_

 _13 years old_

 _Subclavian Tunnel: West-bound_

"Bet you can't!"

The taunting was ratcheting Thrax's nerves as the local bully goaded him into jumping across the median of the west and east bound Subclavian Tunnels.

"C'mon Thrax. Don't give in to his stupidity. He's chicken-shit because he won't do it." His best friend Jax tried to pull him away but he wouldn't budge.

"If I make it, what do I get?"

Jonah sneered. " _If you make it across?_ I dunno, what do you think you deserve to get?"

Thrax took a step forward. "You lay off Jax and that other kid you enjoy torturing so much."

Jonah's eyebrows rose. "Fair enough." He backed away grinning as he surveyed the large space between the tunnels. "A long way down."

"Are you crazy?" Jax hissed. "If you miss-!"

"If I miss it'll be a blessing." Thrax replied. "-Won't have to deal with Spyrah and her PMSing partner anymore." Jax scoffed in disbelief. Thrax began eyeing the distances and shapes of the tunnels, trying to figure out the best angles. Then he walked as far as he could down the tunnel until the overpass cut off his path. He hoped he wouldn't miss and before he changed his mind, started running, gaining speed as he went. _Here goes nothing._ He pushed as hard as he could off the West-bound tunnel and cleared the space between, almost. He hit almost the top of the east tunnel, feeling his fibers crunch and the breath leave him. His left hand glowed as his claw lit, and sank into the tunnel wall. Slowly he pulled himself up on top with nothing but one deep scratch down his right forearm, reaching his elbow. From Jonah's face, the microbe hadn't expected him to make it. Thrax smirked. Maybe that would be the last time he was underestimated.

…..

 _Present_

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _6:24pm_

For once Grace was looking forward to the end of her shift. _Just thirty more minutes._ But then in one second her hopes were dashed. Marcia appeared. "Hey Gracie. Room 111." The she-cell had a strange look on her face as they met eyes.

"Sure." Grace grabbed her clipboard and started to pass the she-cell, but Marcia stopped her.

"Grace…" The woman bit her lip. "I-" She looked away, trailing off.

"What?" Her colleague's reaction was beginning to concern her.

"I… thought it was Thrax in there. The precinct has been notified."

Nothing the woman said to her made sense until she travelled down the hall and saw for herself what Marcia was so concerned about. A virus sat in the guest chair instead of on the bed, a virus with purple dreads and a membrane as red as blood. An El Muerte Rojo virus. She stood rooted to her spot as she surveyed him before her nursing instincts kicked in, though she was careful how she moved.

"Can you sit on the bed please?"

She arranged the test tubes laid out on the tray as the virus slowly stood and came around her side, sitting carefully and as far away from her as he could get.

"What is your name?"

His voice was low and tired. "You'll get it soon enough once Immunity gets here."

She paused. "You knew you'd be arrested and yet you still came here?"

His golden eyes landed on her; she had to look away as they reminded her too much of Thrax. "There is something wrong with me. I had no choice." He tried to shift his posture and almost fell off the bed, instinctively she jumped to steady him, surprised by how cold his membrane was. _Thrax is never this cold._

"How long have you been like this?"

"A month." He looked like he could pass out at any moment.

She sighed. "I'm going to have to ask you to lay down. You're at risk of falling I can't have that." He looked up at her for a second and then slowly pulled himself backward so he was more in the middle of the bed. "I need a name too." She said after a moment, not looking up from the rapid notes she was taking.

She barely heard him as he muttered, "Daemon." She looked up to ask more questions but was interrupted by the arrival of two Immunity officers.

"Another one? Bad enough we got one on the Force already." A newbie shook his head as his partner whitened upon seeing Grace for who she was. He kicked the rookie.

"Shut your trap."

She chose to ignore the rookie's comment about Thrax. "I haven't finished treating him yet."

"Well we were called here to pick him up, so too bad." She felt an overwhelming sense to punch the newbie.

"It is a law I'm sure you learned about it in the Academy, it doesn't matter who the patient is, they are entitled to treatment before arrest. Isn't that right Mike?" She posed to the older officer.

The officer stammered over his words before quietly agreeing. "We can wait." He shoved his partner out of the curtained area.

She turned back to the virus. "I need to take some plasma samples." She didn't get a response as he turned his head away.

….

 _Past_

Burning his forearm scrape shut didn't hurt much, it weirded out his friend though as Jax looked on.

"Dude. That is friggin' weird as shit I hope you know."

Thrax shrugged. "It is handy. The two turned down the street where the motel was. Jax slowed his pace, studying the rundown building. "You know, you never talk about the folks you are with." He glanced at the virus, guiltily. "You're adopted?"

Thrax snorted. "Define adopted." He said bitterly. "They paid off the orphanage I was at to take me but they didn't adopt me. "Collecting trophies is not adopting."

Jax narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Trophy? Is that what they see you as? I mean there aren't exactly a lot of you hanging around."

"Exactly." Thrax gave him a sideways glance. "Trophy." He toed a small stone around with his foot. "I'm running away…. First chance I get. I'm leaving them. I'm thirteen, I can handle myself. Been doing it all my life."

"I'd miss hanging with you, but you gotta do what you gotta do." Jax shrugged. "If anyone could make it, you can."

"Yeah." Thrax agreed absently. He glanced up and saw Spyrah standing outside the door, watching them. "Hey. I have to go."

Jax noticed her too. "Yeah…be safe alright?"

Thrax nodded. "Thanks."

He climbed the stairs and went to pass her. "A friend?" Until that point he never let Spyrah and Vinícius know about what little social life he had. He paused in the doorway, Jax rounded the corner and disappear. Thrax looked back at her. "So he thinks."

She studied him. "No reason to lie."

He felt his insides flip. "I'm not."

She tilted her head and drifted closer, a sly smile crossing her face. "I see." Her response sent chills down his back. Something told him he had to leave sooner than expected to throw the interest off Jax, for his safety. _Again. I must lose something for another to be safe._

…

He waited for them to go out on their usual nightly jaunt; he threw what little belongings he had and left the tiny apartment, never once looking back.

…

 _Present_

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _8:13pm_

"Gracie." Sue, the head nurse of the ER, appeared next to her outside the curtained off bed the El Muerte Rojo virus occupied. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but you have to hurry with the virus. The Precinct chief called twice asking why he hasn't been arrested yet." Silently Grace handed her supervisor a paper and watched as Sue's face blanched. "They aren't going to buy this…. Grace."

"They're going to have to." She said flatly. "I'm second in charge on this floor and I've already signed responsibility for him."

"I can override that. And I just might, to get those officers out of here." She brushed by Grace enter the closed area, and studied the unconscious virus. Grace followed her.

"He has some sort of anemia. I'm not entirely sure why yet." Grace murmured.

"Did you examine him?" Sue asked.

Grace shot her a look. "Not out here. They won't give me a room."

Sue rolled her eyes and reached out, pulling one of his sleeves up and froze. Grace felt her insides grow cold.

 _Her hands disappeared from his back and she sat in silence with him, only giving Luka a pat and scratch behind the ear when she came tottering over. "It's a reaction to cytokine."_

Daemon's arm was splotched in a greyish-black. Sue had seen enough, she turned away telling one of the girls at the desk to get her a room. It didn't take her long to get one and soon had the virus moved; with no seasoned doctors available, she snatched a resident doctor off his much needed break.

"How long has he been unconscious?" The young resident, Harry, was bent close to the virus.

"About an hour now." Grace paced at the end of the bed. "How much cytokine can cause a reaction like this?"

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. My guess is he was exposed to it multiple times and never got proper medical attention. It built up in his system."

"Can it-?" Sue began but the virus waking stopped her in the middle of her sentence. Though groggy, he reached out to the side rail and pulled himself sideways.

"Easy." Harry tried to steady him but despite his weakened state, Daemon still managed to push him back as he vomited a black mucus. The hacked coughs that followed made Grace wince.

"Can this be fixed?" Sue asked her question again.

Harry scratched his head. "Maybe… we could try saline dialysis but there may be lasting damage. Why does precinct 5 want him?"

"Because he's an El Muerte Rojo. Considered a Class 3 virus." Sue answered lowly. "We had to." Footsteps made them turn and see the mayor of Frank, Tom Colonic, arrive.

"I called Doug. He told his officers to come back to the station." Tom glanced at Sue. "I apologize for putting you on the spot Susan, but I don't need to remind you innocent until proven guilty, right? We already have an El Muerte Rojo virus on the Immunity force who has proven to be a great asset."

Sue tsked. " _After_ he tried to kill us and Frank." She caught Grace's eye and looked away immediately, embarrassed at her outburst.

"That's irrelevant." Colonic murmured. "What's relevant is Thrax's track record now." His eyes travelled to the virus who was again unconscious. "Just because he's an El Muerte Rojo, doesn't mean he's out to do harm… or that could have been his intent and the cytokine poisoning stopped him. We won't know until he is well enough to tell us. Grace-"

She looked up, giving him her attention. "I saw you signed as responsible for him."

"Yes."

"Do you want to keep it that way?"

Grace felt Sue's eyes on her. She was the second top nurse in the ER. If she said yes, she'd be stretched between the ER and the ICU, to deal with him only. It would rub Sue the wrong way no doubt. Then she looked back at the virus-Daemon. He wasn't going to receive nearly as equal care if he went under someone else's watch. She paused. _Am I that judgemental that I think he'll be discriminated against by my own colleagues?_ Then she remembered the stigma Thrax experienced. _No. I'm right in knowing he will be discriminated against… by my own colleagues._ The fact everyone kept bringing up his virus type was enough for her. _Only Tom and I see him as a patient in need of help. Everyone sees him as a threat._ "Yes." She answered. "I do."


	4. Chapter 4

_Past_

 _Optic Nerve_

It was often Thrax wondered why microbes went over and beyond to pull off heists. The only thing he was even remotely okay about was the kitchen uniforms were black. Baso, the gang leader, must have thought so too because he was sure to mention it, saying he didn't need Thrax standing out any more than he already did. The young virus only sent him a glare in response.

It was the Annual Socialite Gala, held high up in the Optical nerve. Baso promised big rewards as the gathering always raked in a lot of money. Thrax didn't care about the money as long as he was paid his percentage for his participation. He needed the money so he could move. He knew he was playing a dangerous game; Baso was the second gang leader he had had the pleasure of dealing with. The first one was still looking for him, he knew it was only a matter of time before the first gang found him. He didn't blend well. He glowered at the red membrane on his hands.

"Hello." In his dark thoughts, he forgot about paying attention to handing out the aqueous shakes. An older she-cell stood him front of him, her age not disturbing her beauty. For a second he thought of Sister Angela. Wordlessly he pushed a shake in her direction. She took it amused, still watching him. "What's your name?"

Caught off guard by her continuing to address him, willingly, he could only look at her. No one ever gave him the time or day… _except Sister Angela._ Then he looked away, hoping his rudeness would make her go away. People got hurt when they knew him. Then the guilt set in

"Thrax." He said before thinking and then silently berating himself for not giving the woman the fake name he had given Baso.

"Thrax." She repeated. "It suits you." Her friendly smile faded slightly. "Are you volunteering?"

It took him a moment to grasp what she was getting at. No one could tell his age and so always assumed his was younger than he really was. She was most likely thinking about the taking advantage of the labor rules and kids.

"Something like that." Immediately he knew his answer was the wrong one. He was very good at deciphering facial expressions, even the hidden ones.

"Well. It was nice to meet you Thrax." She left the table, melting into the crowd. A second or two later he saw her again, standing next to who had to be her husband. Then he saw Ichium, Baso's right hand, staring at him.

"What was that?" The germ growled as soon as he was close enough.

"Nothing." Thrax grumbled, cursing the germ's exceptional attention to detail.

"That didn't look like nothing." The germ grabbed his arm in a vice grip. "What did she want?"

"I don't know." Thrax snapped and tried to pull away. "Fuck off Ichium."

Ichium let go of his arm and grabbed his neck, his rage at the insolence making him forget they were in the middle of a room full of unsuspecting cell citizens, and they were on a job. Thrax's temper equally flared, having once promised himself no one would touch him after Vinícius's manhandling of him. He twisted and brought his right elbow down on the germ's wrist, effectively breaking the iron hold on his neck; shoving the microbe back Thrax lit his left hand without thought, pointing the tip of it in between Ichium's eyes.

"I said fuck off."

The microbe turned ruddy. "I'm gonna kick your ass, you insolent shit. The boss ain't gonna like hearin' about this."

 _There goes my percentage…_ He might as well stop hiding, the other gang was going to find him eventually and if not them, Vinícius surely would. He backed away, his hand cooling and then turned, leaving the room not before seeing the she-cell who talked to him. She was watching him as was anyone else who saw the exchange, genuine concern on her face. _No one concerns themselves with me._ He left, grabbing his hoodie off the chair next to him on his way out.

…..

He cursed his stupidity thinking he could walk out of the building, no problem. Baso appeared just as he reached the parking lot.

"And where do you think you are going?"

"Leaving." Thrax stated shortly, not slowing his stride. A crony seized him, pulling him into a choking headlock. He fought, his thin frame no match for the burly microbe holding him.

"Quit moving!" Baso snarled.

All the rage built up from the continual injustices served to the young virus every day of his life exploded. He kicked out at the gang leader, catching the germ by surprise and hitting him square in the stomach. As the leader gagged, another microbe was quick to avenge the boss punching Thrax hard in the face. The impact jarred his vision and threatened to send him into unconsciousness.

"Hey!"

His senses stunned, he fell when his assailant dropped him, his head slapping the ground hard. Forcing his eyes open he saw none other than the female cell again, her husband storming towards him. _Not me, Baso…_

Above him Baso growled unintelligibly and stomped down on his chest, grinding his heel in. "This ain't over you shit. No one screws up my jobs and gets away with it. You're a dead virus." The gang leader shoved him away with his boot and disappeared. Ignoring the pain, he slowly stood, stumbling slightly.

"You need to sit sonny. You could have a head injury." The older cell came to his side, still looking off in the direction the germs disappeared in.

Thrax shot him a look. _I could have a head injury? Is this idiot blind?_ It was hard for him to get a head injury, he knew from experience. And it wasn't like he could be mistaken for a red blood cell. _Unless the person looking at me is an idiot._ "I'm fine." He turned to walk away.

"Hold on a second."

He didn't hide his annoyance. "Leave me alone."

"I'm an epithelial young man. I'm concerned you may be inju-"

"I said I'm fine." What was with all the adults not listening to him the first time?

"Do you have a place to live?" The woman came closer, her eyes ticking over his head into the darkness, no doubt wondering about his housing options.

"Yes." He answered too quickly and knew she saw through his lie.

The two exchanged knowing glances, silently communicating. "Come with us."

"Excuse me?"

"You are in need."

"I'm not a charity case." Thrax snapped. "Leave me alone before I tell you to fuck off too."

The cell was undeterred. "Please… one night and if you want to leave tomorrow, we will not stop you."

He wanted to curse at the cell again, leave but something stopped him-self-preservation? He wasn't sure.

"One night." He agreed reluctantly.

…

 _Present_

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _ICU_

The beeping poked through his unconscious state, instantly irritating him. He felt a heavy need to sleep yet he couldn't as he slowly came to. His limbs heavy like they were laden in plaque, the nauseating need to puke rose. He managed to turn to avoid choking as he vomited phlegm tinged in black.

"Damn it…" He wheezed. A nurse passed his room, pausing to stare at him, clearly seeing his plight. She turned away, perturbed. _That's great. I get to lay-_ he paused, feeling resistance on his wrists. _To be bound in my puke._

"For god sakes." A young she-cell appeared. He thought he knew her from somewhere but couldn't remember. "I leave for a lunch and no one can take up responsibility for thirty minutes?" She continued to hiss as she crossed the room and pulled a new blanket and sheet out of a closet. Then she noticed he was awake. "Oh-hi… sorry that was unprofessional of me. You weren't supposed to hear that." She burned a brighter shade of purple as she closed the distance between them and tried to release the bed rail. She stood staring at the cuffs binding him to the bed.

"I'm not going anywhere." He rasped. "There's no need to do this." He jerked the cuff.

She met his gaze. "I know." Her expression changing. "I'll be right back. She disappeared; he didn't have long to wonder where she went as she returned with a tool.

"What are you doing?" He asked weakly.

"Making you free." She stated as she brought the cutters up and snapped the links.

"Do you think you can sit and move to a wheelchair?"

"No…" He was feeling another wave of nausea coming. "You can get in trouble for this."

Her purple irises flickered his way. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. Don't disappoint me."

As he studied her, a buried emotion resurfaced. She reminded him of _her._ She was pretty, her gaze mesmerizing. _Whoever she's with is lucky._ His memories were interrupted by wet coughs. Quietly she picked up a small bowl, handing it to him.

"Why are you here?" His eyes, reminding her so much of Thrax, were steady on her. "You're an ER nurse, not ICU." He remembered her now as the one who first evaluated him in the ER. _Grace Estrogen._

She decided to be truthful as she began changing the bed sheet. Thankfully his vomiting only dirtied the top sheet and blanket, not the actual bed sheet "No one else would take your case."

Fleetingly he thought of the nurse who turned away from his room. "But you would?"

She tossed the bedding into a hamper across the room. "Yes."

"Why?" She hadn't expected his follow-up question, he could see it in her eyes. He shifted. "You don't strike me as one of those attention-seeking nuts who go and hang around microbes. The more dangerous, the better."

She knew she probably shouldn't be as truthful as she was being, but something about him made her ignore the protocol written for when dealing with criminals. _He hasn't been charged with anything. Being a virus doesn't automatically make him a criminal._ "I have…I've worked with an el Muerte Rojo virus before."

"An experienced nurse."

"Something like that." She laid the blanket over him and glanced at the door, judging how private the room was. Then she sat in the wheelchair. "Why are you here? Passing through or an ulterior motive?"

He took a slow breath in. "Not all El Muerte Rojo viruses are psychos." He paused. "Or at least I'm not. I was passing through but got too sick to leave." He looked down at his sickly grey tinged hands and arms.

"How many times have you been shot?" Statistically, he shouldn't be alive with the kind of reaction he was suffering from.

"I've lost count."

"Were they from bad deals?"

He had shut his eyes, upon her question he opened them. "Not all of them. Some were from Immunity taking the opportunity to shoot first and not ask later."

Silence enveloped the room. The question burned in her mind, hoping she wouldn't insult him, she had to know.

"Did you… father a son?"

His attention until that point had been teetering on the edge of waning and being sharp; at her question, he immediately came to. "Excuse me?" He didn't sound angry, just stunned.

"I've been involved with someone… someone like you." She had to look away. "Someone who looks remarkably like you and I don't mean virus type."

He continued to stare at her, then his gaze lowered. "No."

She knew he was lying but she didn't push him, he was weak and didn't need stress from an argument. "Well. Do you need anything? Food from the cafeteria? You guys need to eat constantly."

A strange expression cross his face. "I've gone weeks without food before. We don't need to eat constantly…"

"Oh." _Just Thrax then?_ She stood. "I'll be back later." She paused. "You should eat though, it'll help you heal faster."

Despite his words of not needing to eat, she ordered him something anyway from the nurse's station. She could feel the vibes from the others. Looking up in the middle of relaying an order to the cafeteria, she tsked. "Am I talking too fast for you all?" The reaction to her snap was immediate as they all either turned back to their work or looked away.

In his room, Daemon's exceptionally good hearing picked up on her combativeness. _For someone so small, she's awfully loud._

…..

 _FPD: Precinct 13_

Even though his juvie record was wiped clean after his involvement in stopping the Ehrlichia Crisis, walking into any immunity building still rose Shaine's stress level to uncomfortable heights; but Lindi wanted to find Thrax so he followed her. It had been two days since they ran into the unnamed el Muerte Rojo virus at the mall. Since then Lindi agonized whether to tell Thrax about the encounter. Shaine finally pushed her to, stating it was best considering the type of virus he was.

They found the him at his desk, seemingly checked out as a mini argument ensued with Jones and the two cops next to them. Something about plaque-ball teams and the scores.

"Thrax."

He looked up from his vacant stare at the computer, surprise flickering across his face before the usual stoic expression took over. "What are you doing here?

For a moment Lindi seemed to lose her nerve. "She wanted to tell you something." Shaine took over for her when she didn't give any indication she was going to continue.

"Aw man." Across from Thrax, Jones was grinning widely. "I've been waiting for this day. Dude, you've come to the right place." If looks could kill- Thrax was about ready to tell the cell to shut up but Vein's appearance behind Jones made him take a breath instead. The T-cell was proactive in always walking around the precinct so he was up to date on everything.

"What are you talking about?" Shaine snipped.

"You've come to the right place." Jones repeated. "You've got plenty of cops to do the right thing and save you after your confession." Behind Jones Veins narrowed his eyes, his arms crossed.

"What confession?" The teenage microbe asked impatiently.

Jones took a dramatic inhale and exhale. "She's pregnant. Thrax, my man, don't kill him."

The virus was staring at Shaine expressionless, scarcely breathing, and then his attention was on his daughter. "For his sake, _you_ better not be."

"I'm not pregnant." Lindi interjected, indignant. "God. Is that what you think he and I do all day?"

"Yeah Jones." Veins piped up.

"Aw shit." The cell hissed, not turning around. "How long he been standin' behind me?"

"Long enough." The chief answered. "I want that report about the pock-fighting ring on my desk by the end of your shift…" He looked at the time. "Which is in two hours." A smatter of snickering from listening colleagues erupted and quickly faded as Veins turned back in the direction of his office.

"Absolutely. I'll get right on that." Jones gave him a salute.

"You better." Veins muttered under his breath.

….

 _Interrogation room I_

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Fents, a rookie-in-training investigator, demanded.

"Your job is to sit here, observe and shut up." Thrax snapped, earning instant silence from the kid.

"I didn't say-" Lindi began hesitantly but Thrax cut her off.

"You don't need to explain anything." His golden eyes landed on the rookie again, daring him to say something. Next to the virus, Jones finally taking the kids' arrival seriously, smirked at the rookie's idiotic mistake of trying to confront Lindi in the presence of Thrax.

'Moron.' He mouthed in the kid's direction who glared at him.

Veins sat deep in thought at the end of the table, then he spoke. "Fents. Can you take Lindi and Shaine to Amoriah?"

Attempting to ignore Thrax's hard gaze, Fents muttered, "sure." Once the three were gone, Veins let his pen fall to the notepad in front of him.

"Porter called. Said his precinct has dibs on a red virus currently a patient at Cerebellum Hospital."

"What?" Jones let his chair legs bang on all fours. "A red virus? At Cerebellum?"

Veins gave a slight nod. "Tom confirmed he's an el Muerte Rojo, he saw him the day of his admittance."

Jones was staring at Thrax. "Gracie say anything to you?" The virus didn't answer him, but the expression did.

….

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

Annie Fovea was eagerly waiting for the clock to turn so it'd say 12:30, her food was waiting for her in the breakroom, but her happiness faltered when she saw Freddie Veins followed by Osmosis and Thrax. "Oh shit."

Her supervisor Sue looked up, not surprised at seeing the three. "Yup. And guess where Gracie is. I'm willing to bet _he_ doesn't have a clue."

"Susan." Veins greeted the she-cell. She nodded stiffly.

"Chief."

"I need to see the virus."

The she-cell straightened. "I was told by my supervisors only Precinct 2 can see him as this hospital is their jurisdiction."

"They said that, huh?" Veins looked around. "I have news for them. All the hospitals in this body are every precincts' jurisdiction." She pursed her lips. Seeing her subtle reaction, Veins didn't let up. "Sue. This isn't up for debate."

She sighed heavily. For a moment Thrax could have sworn her irritated gaze landed on him. "Fine."

…..

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _ICU_

Grace walked out of Rm 105 and almost into Sue and Veins. "Freddie-" Her next words died when she saw Thrax over his shoulder.

"I'd say you didn't make this job of yours common knowledge, did you?" Even since she took up the care of Daemon Sue's attitude changed drastically. Grace knew she was the most reliable and best nurse in the ER but she had to admit it was a nice reprieve being away from the chaos. Sue took her actions as an insult.

Knowing she couldn't say anything in her defense, Grace didn't bother opening her mouth. Vein's eye twitch told her he wasn't impressed by her boss's behavior. "Thank you." He said pointedly. The ER supervisor sniffed and turned away, leaving them quickly.

"What the hell is her problem?" Jones asked, watching the she-cell go.

"She'll get over it." Grace passed them, determined to be as normal as possible. "What do you need?"

"Came to see about the virus. We've been tracking him from Station 9 Customs. Finally heard he was here."

"Words travels fast apparently." She finally turned. "He's awake." She gestured absently in the direction of Rm 105.

Thrax hung back as the two officers went to the room. Next to him, Grace was avoiding looking anywhere in his direction. "I'm not mad if that's what you think."

"You should be. I kept this from you, knowing Precinct 13 was working with Leah trying to locate him."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on Grace. You aren't required to run home every day and give me an itinerary of what criminals or microbes came through here." He paused. "Do you want me to be mad?" She gave a slight head shake of no. "Alright then." He drifted to the patient door. "Coming?"

She flexed her grip on the folders she was holding, trying to figure out what she wanted. Finally, she decided. "Yes."

…..

Upon entering the room, Thrax was struck by the likeness between himself and the patient. He had only ever come across another Red Death virus once, and the guy was too psychotic for his tastes, even then. Yet, he didn't remember sharing such a close likeness to that one. He hoped he hadn't given anything away from his inner turmoil. The patient was focused on Veins until he entered and then he couldn't take his eyes off him. Thrax felt his protective instincts kick in when the virus's gaze ticked between him and Grace, obviously putting two and two together.

"What is or was your agenda here?" Vein asked a little loudly, purposely drawing the virus's attention back to him. Even Veins noticed the fixation on Grace.

"I didn't have an agenda." Daemon answered. "I'm nomadic. I was simply passing through. My shit luck I got sick."

"Really...?" The T-cell decided to see how far he could push the virus by upping the tension behind his words. "Somehow I find that extremely hard to believe." He could have been conversing with a wall. No change in emotion, just the same calmness.

"Then don't." The virus looked down at his hands. "I just want to heal and be on my way."

The statement struck Veins as odd after reading the virus's hospital charts. Despite himself, he turned to look at Grace. In response, she looked away, as Daemon missed the entire exchange being focused on his reddish-grey membrane.

"So, you're just passing through." Veins continued the questioning. "Where's that bracelet you all carry with great gusto?"

The virus became very still. For a moment, he only stared back at the chief, but then he was looking at Thrax. A surprise to himself, it unnerved him and he wasn't unnerved easily. "Destroyed it. A long time ago."

"Destroyed it?" Jones finally spoke for the first time. "Since when do viruses like you destroy something like that?"

"Since apparently only me." The virus was finally showing agitation. "It was in my way and unneeded cargo, seeing as I'm always on the move like I said."

Jones opened his mouth to most likely argue but Vein stopped him. "Don't." The T-cell whispered. Jones made a face and listened. "Well we'll leave you to rest. I may come back later just so you know." He didn't receive an answer and didn't pursue getting one. Once they were out in the hallway and far enough away, Veins turned to Grace. "You didn't tell him yet?"

"I can't tell him, it's a doctor's job to do it."

"Tell him what?" Jones piped up before Thrax could.

Grace fidgeted. "Frank is his last stop. I don't know what's happened to him, he's being vague. But the amount of cytokine he's been exposed to, essentially destroyed certain body functions. They're sure he's not going to die but he's not going to be self-reliant."

"Cripe Gracie. Someone's gotta tell him. They aren't going to fire you. There'd be a riot and strike if they did."

"I don't know how." She admitted. "I make cells better. I don't tell them they are severely disabled for the rest of their lives. The few stories I've heard are horror stories, the cells always give up and they're usually dead within a month, unable to handle the truth."

"Give it a day or two." Veins murmured, he turned to leave but paused. "You purposely took his case, didn't you?"

Hyper-aware of Thrax's closeness to her, she faltered for a moment. Then. "Yes. I did."

….

 _Past_

Thrax felt dirty as he sat awkwardly in the backseat of the doctor's car, trying to touch the seat as little as possible. Finally, they arrived at their destination, a very wealthy neighborhood. _A place where cells like me don't go unless we're breaking in._ He stayed on the sidewalk even as Edie passed him. She paused when she saw he didn't move.

"Come on. It's okay."

For a split second, he thought about taking off right there, but then realized the chances of him being picked up by Immunity for simply being in that neighborhood was high. Slowly he closed the distance between them.

Their home was nicer than any place he had ever seen, and even though it was big the couple lived simply. Nothing too extravagant. "Well sonny. What should we call you? I should've asked sooner but with that whole fiasco I forgot."

His wife reappeared from turning on lights. "Thrax. Right?"

He could feel his membrane growing hotter by the second. He nodded and whispered. "Yes ma'am."

"Oh, you don't have to call me that. Just Edie is fine. And Herb…" She squeezed her husband's shoulder. "Would you want to take a shower."

 _I'm dirty…._ He looked down, hoping he hadn't left any evidence. The heat of embarrassment and shame was travelling around his body, crawling down his arms. He noticed his hand, one particular finger beginning to glow. He quickly hid it. Sometimes he couldn't control the heat from coming, always a direct correlation with his emotions. He didn't want them thinking he was a threat. Then he realized he never answered her. "Yes ma'am."

She smiled gently as his refusal to call her anything else but ma'am. "Come this way."

He didn't remember the last time he had a heated shower and he wished he could enjoy it more but was quick to shut it off even before all the grime was gone. Seeing the muddy streaks running down his legs and painting the white tub, he thought again how dirty he was compared to these cells, and it wasn't just the grime. _Vinícius would never think to look for me here._ Yet it worried him a little. What if the bacteria did find him? He didn't want these two caring cells to suffer when the demons from his past finally did catch up with him. He turned the water back on, scrubbing the dirt away. _Pollen crap… it always sticks._

…

Later he laid in bed after Edie insisted he eat something. He knew he was a stick but he didn't want to be a freeloader. _Squatter._ It had been a long time since he was treated with the respect and genuine kindness the two cells were giving him. _For free._ He turned over. All he knew after Sister Angela was working for everything. And just because you worked for it, didn't mean you got it. Guilt surfaced as he thought of the fights he had been in out on the streets with Baso's gang. Thrax was fast and he knew how to hold his own, Baso liked that. He wondered where the last microbe he helped pummel was. Last he knew, the guy was unconscious. _You're an idiot._ He knew what happened. Baso made an appearance that time, the victim having screwed the gang leader over bad. Thrax was sent away with the others but froze in his tracks at hearing the gunshot echo. _I did that._ He sat up. A wave of disgust coming over him. He didn't deserve this treatment. His _good treatment_ amounted to maybe getting a second bowl of measly gruel. He got off the bed, hesitating with the blanket still in his hand. He took it off, found a corner by the heater and laid down. Sleep didn't come for hours.


	5. Chapter 5

_Cerebellum Hospital_

 _3:30am_

Grace grudgingly volunteered to cover a colleague's shift after an unexpected illness. Working a double always killed her and made her miss the warm bed at home. No doubt Luka was in her place soaking up all the warmth from Thrax. _I miss him too._ Lately it seemed their schedules were opposite each other Since Freddie took over as chief, he had been relying on Thrax more. It made her remember when she told him so long ago maybe a person like him was exactly what Frank and Immunity needed.

Finally, she could take a breather and headed to the dorms, taking a cot among snoring residents. She just drifted off, when a loud blaring alarm ripped through the air above her head. All around her students and napping staffers alike were jumping out of bed asking the obvious.

"Attention staff members, we have a Code Green, repeat a code green. All immediate ICU staffers please come to the ICU."

"Code green?" Someone asked. "What is code green?"

It took a moment but then she remembered. "Shit." She started for the door. "Move. Now." Cells listened, their expressions telling her, not that she cared, she insulted them. _They'll get over it._

…..

 _3:35am_

He heard the announcement, stating to the whole hospital there was a patient missing, but he promptly ignored it and continued to climb the stairs albeit not without searing pain throughout his whole body. He didn't know where he was going, everything appeared surreal, as he followed the ever-continuing stairs. He just reached the eighth floor when an access door banged open and two immunity cops appeared. _Damn it._ They hadn't seen him yet so he went back the way he came, exiting through seventh landing door. Ducking into the first room he saw he waited with baited breath to see if the two officers noticed him and were coming. But as the minutes stretched on he relaxed.

Turning he saw a young she-cell with a baby watching him silently. The scene uncomprehending to him, his gaze swept to the patient's informational whiteboard. The word Maternity stamped across the top of it.

"Oh." He felt his membrane begin to burn. "I'm sorry." He backed away and left. He was trying to figure out what to do next when an overwhelming wave of nausea hit him. The nerves in his hands diminished, he almost missed the wall as he tried to steady himself. Dry-heaving, he saw a dark room with an empty bed. A massive headache adding to his need to vomit he stumbled to it and managed to pull himself up onto it before his strength left him.

….

Grace reached the ICU in time to see heavily armored T-cells gearing up. Exasperated, she looked around for the head doctor, she found him in the nurse's station. "What the hell is this?"

"Grace." He was mopping his forehead. "Susan is asking for you to return to the E-"

"What is this? Why are they loaded like they're going into battle?"

"Well." He folded his cloth in half. "Uh-there's a patient m-missing…" He wouldn't look at her, something that was beginning to irritate her. She was hoping it wasn't as serious as it sounded but quite the opposite; her stomach tied itself into knots. If they were that heavily armed the odds were, they were planning on shooting first.

"They need to lose the cytokine." She could feel her temper beginning to rise.

"Well now." He fidgeted. "We are in no position to tell them what to-"

"Yes, we are." She exploded. "If he gets one more dose of cytokine, however small, it will kill him." When all she got in return was blank stares she scoffed and left.

She punched the elevator button for the ER floor and waited for the doors to close; the two sides were just coming together when Connie stuck her hand in, stopping the elevator from closing. "Gracie… the maternity ward wants you."

"The maternity ward?" She was only ever needed there once and that was her first year of residency. "Why?"

Connie glanced back at the assembled officers and then got in the elevator with her. "Your virus is there."

…

 _Eosph-Landing Apartments_

 _4:09am_

Osmosis Jones was about ready to kiss Leah when a loud annoying _bbbzzztt_ interrupted his dream. He groaned but didn't open his eyes, letting the cellphone continue sliding around the nightstand.

"Ozzy." Leah reached over to shake him awake. "Ozzy. Your phone."

"I was hoping it was a dream." He moaned, and reached for the offending device, chasing it around blindly as he didn't open his eyes. When he found it he uncoordinatedly stuck it to his auditory canal. "H-Hello?"

"Jones. Are you awake?"

" 'm am now… who is this?" He rubbed his face, trying to wake up. The voice sounded familiar but in his groggy state, the name was eluding to him. Then it clicked. "Gracie?"

"I need you."

…

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _4:23am_

Jones followed her directions to the back of the hospital where the ambulances were stored; with her was another nurse and a figure in a wheelchair. "What is going on?"

Her face was tight with worry. "I'll explain everything once he's in the car. We should hurry." He knew he should have demanded to know what was going on, especially when he saw who it was in the wheelchair. Immediately he thought 'illegal,' but he helped guide the virus into his car anyway, without question. He'd blame it on still being half asleep if he was interrogated.

"You wanna tell me why you're committing a crime Grace?" He asked quietly once they were driving, he glanced behind them to see what the virus was doing, but he was still unconscious.

"Precinct 2's tactic team is in there, looking for him."

"Excuse me?" Jones stopped watching the road. "Precinct 2? You-I just helped you yank _him_ out from under their tactical team? Grace."

"They were going to shoot him. Another dose of cytokine, he will die." She argued.

"Why would they shoot him? What was he doing?"

She faltered. "He left his room." She whispered.

"He what?"

"They called a code green for missing patient. He was in the maternity ward, I'm not sure why. I'm assuming he became confused and just wandered. It's the adverse effects of the cytokine poisoning he's suffering from and they were going to shoot him on sight." She glared out her window. "He can't stay there. He's going to die."

"So, you're what, bringing him back to Esoph-Landing? How's is that any different Grace, it's just geography."

"He won't have inattentive care for one." She snapped. "And there won't be someone hovering by the phone, ready to call the authorities for the stupidest thing." She glanced at him. "You don't think a tactical team being called for a missing patient is a little excessive?"

"Well yeah it's excessive." He breathed a disbelieving laugh, like her, not amused with the situation. "But he's a virus Grace. We don't know anything about him. Nothing. We don't know the real reason he's here, we don't know what type of person he is-"

"He's Thrax's father." She hissed before remembering Daemon was in the backseat. Mortified she blurted that out, she prayed he wasn't awake as she looked. Thankfully, he wasn't. She didn't get much time to prepare for the car to stop. Jones hit the brakes hard, making the seatbelt go tight around her neck and chest. "Ozzy. We're going to be hit-"

"What are you talking about?" He ignored her warning. "Thrax's father? Where did you hear that?"

"I guessed it. I asked him straight out." She looked around, making sure they weren't about to be broad-sided by someone in another vehicle. "We need to move. Someone's going to rear-end us."

"What did he say?" Jones made sure no one was coming and continued the journey to the apartments, rapidly growing closer.

'He said he didn't father a son. But he hesitated. That tells me he lied." She glanced at him. "I've been around enough patients lying about why they're sitting in the ER with me to know."

Jones fell silent until they pulled into the parking lot and parked. Making no move to get out of the car, the two cells sat in silence until Jones broke it again. "I dunno if Freddie can save you or me on this one Grace. What are you gonna tell Thrax?"

She didn't answer right away. "I was going to ask Lei about him staying with you."

"Of course you were." He grumbled. "Fine. Let's get him in before I change my mind."

…

Leah was nursing a cool cup of water, hoping her tired headache would go away, but she found it only got worse when her door opened. "What is he doing here?" She stood, shocked.

"He was going to be killed." Grace looked exhausted as she helped tow the semi-awake virus into the apartment.

"This is a crime Grace. He's under Precinct 2's jurisdiction, you can't just take him out of the hospital like that."

"Well I did, so it is too late." Grace moved around her sister to help guide the virus to the couch.

"Have you lost your mind? I work for Tom. Tom Colonic. I-I I don't even know what to say right now." Leah trailed off.

"I'll find other arrangements, but just for tonight can he stay? Please? You did it for Thrax."

Her sister's mouth opened and shut once or twice. "That was different, Tom asked us. We didn't whizz Thrax out from underneath Charlie."

"Well if they want to charge me fine." Grace tried to keep her combative attitude to a minimum. "One night Leah."

"Fine. One night." Leah relented grudgingly, still blown away by her little sister's audacity. "Go get some sleep, you need it. We'll take it from here."

….

The adrenaline finally began wearing off as Grace entered her apartment. She paused for half a second seeing a body on the couch, then she sighed in relief and amusement. An open textbook was draped over Shaine's chest while he slept. As quietly as she could she went to him and carefully pulled the book off making him stir and turn over; his breathing evening out.

Luka sat up when she entered the bedroom, her rump gyrating faster and faster. "Shhh." She hoped she could slide into bed without waking up Thrax. She managed to get the covers over her and settle before he moved closer.

"Did he leave?"

She tried to hide the smile in her tone. "No." She felt the muscles in his arm tighten and lost the fight to not smile.

"He better be anywhere else but her room."

She turned over to face him. "Relax butch. He's dead to the world on the couch if you must know."

"Better be." He shifted his weight.

She studied his face, the guilt coming back to her at the thought of who was in her sister's apartment. "Thrax…"

He grunted.

"How awake are you?"

He only grunted again; just when she was deciding to possibly tell him later he took a breath. "Awake enough. Why?"

She silently cursed herself. "Remember the-patient I have?"

"The virus?" His eyes were still closed, making her wonder how awake he really was and if he'd remember the conversation later.

"Yeah." Then she lost her nerve. "Never mind. I'll tell you later." She focused on the heat rolling off him and let the warmth send her into a dream filled sleep.

…..

A large slider was the first thing he saw upon waking up. Swallowing away the nausea though it wasn't as bad as before, he tried to sit up; his movements jerky and weak. He noticed the IV tube travelling along his arm and into an intravenous catheter in his chest. _When did that get put in?_ He couldn't remember.

"Hi." His head feeling like a balloon he turned to see who was speaking to him. The girl was thin, her features sharper than a typical red blood cell. _That's because she's not a red blood cell… not completely anyway. Is that even possible?_ Her membrane was harder, her eyes a light green with vibrant gold flecks. _She looks like El Muerte Roja, but she isn't. She's like a warped version of one of us._ He didn't know what to say to her, so he stayed silent. "My mom told me to make sure you eat." She held a plate out. On autopilot, he took it from her.

"Thanks." He looked around again. "Where am I?" From his vantage point he could see the city stretched out far below them.

"Um… Esoph-Landing Apartments, right outside the pharynx." She was watching him curiously, he could tell from the corner of his eye. He thought maybe she was wary of him but then she sat next to him, unafraid. "She'll be down later… she's-"

"Sleeping." He finished. "She deserves it after being up all night."

"Yeah, she does." The girl agreed softly. "I'm Lindi… Grace is my mother, obviously."

"That makes the virus your father." He looked at her fully, gauging her reactions. He wasn't disappointed as she became still.

"Yeah." She glanced down to her hands. "He isn't biologically but he's been there for me. Saved me, a long time ago." That piqued his interest but he chose not to comment. "Were you here to harm Frank but your illness caught up with you?

He was impressed by her directness. "No. I was passing through when my illness caught up to me." He studied his greyed hands. "You are the one I ran into in the mall." It wasn't a question.

Her face reddened slightly more. "Yeah. I thought you were Thrax." _Thrax._ "At first I mean." She added. Ever since he saw the other Red Death virus he felt an almost insatiable urge to know about him. _Thrax._ "When did he get here?"

She observed him for a moment or two. "About two years ago." She pushed her hair back. "He-um…didn't come here on the best terms but that's all over now."

 _His kill gland ruled him. Saying he didn't come here on the best of terms is a nice way of saying he tried to take down the host. Obviously, he failed._ "Tried to kill the host." He stated. Her expression told him she was wondering if she said too much.

Yeah. It happened when I was really young so I don't remember it."

"What stopped him?" He had a pretty good idea why the virus- _Thrax_ \- didn't continue his conquest, he just wanted to hear it. Lindi shrugged.

"He met Grace." _I knew it._ Memories of _her_ resurfaced. Even though he only dealt with her in a hospital setting, Grace Estrogen intrigued him. She was the only one other than the mayor and police chief of Precinct 13 to not treat him like he had an incurable disease. This virus- _Thrax_ -was playing with fire by even being with the she-cell. It would be a tragedy if she died, like _her_ simply because composures were lost. And deep down he knew who Thrax was. The moment Grace asked him in the hospital if he ever had a son, he knew. There weren't too many El Muerte Roja left. He thought about how rare an opportunity it was to trip over the kid you abandoned years ago in a body across the country from the one he currently resided in. _What are the odds of that?_ Even he didn't know. Was he being punished? Was some higher power interfering and forcing him to right the wrongs starting with his estranged son? It occurred to him he never gave Lindi a follow up answer. "I see."

"Have you met him yet?" The girl was still watching him. "Thrax."

"Once."

"He's kind of like you: tall, dark and brooding."

"Brooding?" At that point in his life time, he thought he deserved the right to be moody. The teenager nodded. More silence.

"Do you regret not raising him?"

The question was so unexpected he didn't know what to say, all he managed to utter was a shocked "what?"

"Thrax. Do you regret not raising him?"

Were these people clairvoyant? How were they all jumping to conclusion, accurate conclusions, about him being related? _Because he looks too damn much like me._ He didn't know whether to curse that revelation or not.

He shrugged, regretting the movement. "Never thought about him." _Lie. Every day I wondered where he was. And now look, the other virus was finally within his reach. Maybe I should make an attempt..._


	6. Chapter 6

_Past_

He stood in the middle of a spacious and spotless kitchen, having gotten up early to show his appreciation through some chore, any chore. However, though not sterile, the two generous cells who took him in kept their home neat. He couldn't find anything to clean. It was there, Edie the wife, found him frozen, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Thrax?" He jumped, never hearing her enter. "Are you alright?" His membrane burning redder at being caught he mumbled a 'yeah'. "Are you hungry?" She appeared to ignore his behavior as she passed him to begin her morning routine.

"No ma'am."

She turned to see him still hanging by the island, stiff. "You can sit you know." She gestured to one of the stools. Jerkily, he sat, the wave of tiredness weighing heavier on him. He didn't sleep much the night before after curling up near the heater with the blanket. He also couldn't remember the last time he had a meal but he refused to be a burden to the two cells who opened their home up to him. If he had to he'd sneak out later and- _steal something from a convenient store,_ he thought bitterly. In his dark thoughts, he didn't notice the she-cell putting together food until it was slid in front of him. She gave him a small smile. "You aren't a good liar." _Damn it._ To not insult her, he began picking at the food. Minutes went by before she broke the silence again. "Do you have a place to live? I know I ask you last night, but with all the commotion…" She trailed off.

He shrugged. "I live anywhere I can."

"Well, you can stay here for as long as you want."

The noise of disbelief was out before he knew it, giving him instant guilt at the rudeness, but the level naivety astounded him. "No, I can't. What are your neighbors going to think when they see someone like me coming in and out of here?" He looked down at the food in front of him, the feeling of dirtiness washing over him again. "And Immunity-" He didn't finish, knowing the she-cell was smart enough to see what he was referring to.

"Well-" She sat across from him. "Who we choose to have as guests here does not concern our neighbors."

"And Immunity?" He repeated. That she did not have an answer to, proving to him he was right in voicing the concern. Immunity would never buy the notion he was living in the up-scale neighborhood if he tried to tell them.

"It should only matter your character, not what you look like." She murmured. _  
__My character…. My character is shitty._ A reel of memories regarding all the crimes he participated in ran through his mind; a good person didn't do what he had done.

"Thrax." Edie waited until he was looking at her. "You are young-it is not too late to make up for time lost."

"Bad things always follow me." He rotated his plate with one finger absently. Above them, footsteps could be heard as the doctor awoke and trudged towards what had to be the bathroom.

She stood. "Stay with us. You won't regret it." She busied herself with the sink and getting breakfast together as her husband came down the stairs.

...

 _Present_

 _Esoph-Landing Apartments._

The kitchen counter felt cool as he laid his head down, wishing the hangover-like headache would go away. Only when Luka whined next to him did he move; hoping she wouldn't wake Grace still sleeping, he put her bowl down to which she lost no time diving into. Crashing on the couch, he was silently happy he wasn't expected at the station though that meant Jones wasn't either; he didn't know how long he had to wait before the white blood cell would be irritating him, so he'd take what quiet time he could get.

"You don't look so good."

He didn't open his eyes. "Is there a reason you're still here?" He could hear the kid moving closer to him and taking a seat across from him. _What the hell…_

Shaine grinned. "How else am I supposed to annoy you?"

Thrax rolled his eyes open to look at him. "You breathing annoys me." For his credit, Shaine wasn't insulted like the virus hoped.

"You'd miss me if I wasn't around."

Thrax snorted in disbelief. "I'll take you down to Jones. Lindi's there." The teenager made a face.

"I don't need an escort, thank you though for the thoughtfulness. You are too kind." He stood. _Snot-nose delinquent_. _If only I could light him up…._

Thrax stood too, rolling his shoulder. "Sure you do. You're a juvenile delinquent."

"I got a clean record now."

"What's your point?" He passed Shaine to the front door, gesturing to it dramatically when the kid remained rooted in the middle of his living room. "After you."

…..

Lindi heard the quiet footsteps before the key scraped the lock. The near silent second set of footsteps only pointed to one person other than her boyfriend. Shaine appeared first. "The warden followed me down here."

"Can't be trusted." Thrax leaned against the doorjamb. "Is Jones h-" He stopped upon hearing off-key singing from deeper inside the apartment. Lindi laughed at the face he made.

"Don't you complain. I've had to listen to that for the last ten minutes."

The virus entered the apartment, shutting the door behind him. "I'll tell him to shut up."

"Why?" Shaine asked while Lindi laughed again. "I like his singing. He should get a record deal."

"You would think that." Thrax passed them, trying to figure out what he was going to say to the cop to get him to stop singing the ridiculous lyrics to some popular song he heard once and hated immediately. He had just settled on saying what ever came to mind first when he almost ran into someone in the hallway. He stopped dead in his tracks, thinking for half a second it was his partner; but Jones's singing was continuing, louder now that he was closer. Instead it was someone who looked like him. _He's supposed to be at the hospital…why is he here?_ The bathroom door opened and Jones appeared, pulling a t-shirt on before pausing when he noticed the scene.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Thrax echoed incredulously. "Why is he out of the hospital?"

"Ah-well…." Jones tried to find a believable reason to give without throwing Grace under the bus. He couldn't find one. "I don't know." He answered lamely.

"I left." The virus stated softly.

"You left? How were you able to waltz out of there without a single cell seeing or stopping you?"

"You're an el Muerte Roja virus, you tell me." The virus was quick to retort. "If we want out of somewhere, nothing keeps us from getting out."

Thrax switched his attention to Jones. "Did you break him out?"

"No." The white blood cell managed to sound indignant but Thrax saw through his lie. Knowing he wasn't going to get any real answers, he dropped the conversation and took the opportunity of awkward silence to step away from the other virus. It unnerved him the similarities between them. They looked too much alike and he didn't like it. _We're related._

"I did it." Everyone turned to see Grace, her gaze steady as she shut the front door. "Precinct 2 has never been completely tolerant of the virus protection program, and they had problems when Charlie and Tom welcomed you to the Precinct 13 squad…." Her eyes flickered to Daemon. "He's under my supervision Thrax, I can't knowingly leave him in an environment that has a tactical force gearing up for execution every time he goes to the bathroom on his own."

"You do realize how massive the fallout is going to be from this and who is going to have to deal with it?"

Grace was quiet for a moment, her cellphone turning over in her hands. "Veins already knows."

He wanted to be mad, he wanted the fury to come at the audacity of her going behind his back but as usual, the anger wasn't there. It was that stupid bonding trait most El Muerte Roja viruses chose to ignore; try as he may, he could not. An intense stare bore into the side of his face as he finally realized the other virus was staring at him with an intensity he did not like. "Puedo ayudarte, can I help you?" The Spanish was out before he knew it, a dormant part of him he hadn't touched in a long time; he didn't expect an answer, much less in the same language.

"No lo sé…. Puedo, I don't know… Can I?"

The sarcasm got to him more than the actual words. "Pinchazo sarcástico," he hissed under his breath. It took all his might to not burn the amusement off the virus's face. "Well as long as Veins knows." He finally moved, passing her. "Jones, I need you."

"What did he say? He needs me?" He heard the cell ask as he followed the hall to the floor's garbage chute. The blood cell barely made it around the corner before Thrax had him by the neck and up against the wall, taking a little care in how he manhandled him. The last time the cell was held by the neck he was dangling over thin air in a circular garage.

"You helped her commit a crime?"

"Wha-? The-Hell….." Jones struggled and stumbled when Thrax let go of him but blocked the cell's exit. "I was half a sleep dude-"

"Not an excuse." Thrax snapped.

"Would you rather I left her there to be caught red handed by Precinct 2's tactical?" The glare he received told him the virus's irritation was reaching a boiling point, yet enough reason returned, Jones could see Thrax knew he was right. The cell itched his head nervously. "You do know who he is, right?"

Thrax didn't look at him. "Yeah. I know who he is."

"You do?" The follow up question sounded stupid and Jones even seemed to know it did, but he asked anyway. The golden orbs silenced him.

"And it doesn't mean a thing to me."

...

 _Past_

Thrax burrowed deeper into the blanket cocoon he wrapped himself in, wondering if the heater stopped working. For the past week, every night, he laid near the base boards angling the covers so the heat would be captured inside. He took a breath, wishing the nausea would go away as shivers ran up and down his spine. When was the last time he got up? He couldn't remember. Hell, he couldn't remember how long he had been asleep. He curled his fingers around the fabric, his joints stiff and painful. Laying without some form of a pillow for a week was starting to take a toll on him physically: his back, shoulders and neck all sore. Slowly he rolled to his knees before stumbling to his feet and got the pillow off the bed. He paused, his desire to lay on the bed rather than the floor stronger than ever but then he pulled the pillow off and went back to his spot, wrapping himself up again; wishing the cold would go away too. He closed his eyes.

…..

"Thrax?" He heard the door open, realizing too late Edie was going to wonder why he wasn't using the bed; but he couldn't move, his strength having long left him. Her footsteps were muffled by the soft particle carpet as she came around the side of the bed, searching the darken room. She paused upon seeing him near the heater. "Are you alright?" _Shit. She caught me…_ He had hoped he was able to hide his sleeping arraignments from the Cytes but obviously, he failed. "You didn't come downstairs, I was worried." _A mere she-cell, worried about someone like me._

He took a slow breath in and sat up, feeling his world spin. "I'm sorry." He mumbled. "I'll come." He attempted to stand but lost his balance, landing on his butt with his back against the heater. She was next to him almost instantly.

She reached out to feel his forehead, if he was more coherent he would have moved away. "Do you feel well?"

"Yeah." His usual go-to reply was automatic by then. But the lie fell apart when unconsciousness claimed him.

….

Time passed in darkness. The unknown illness rendered him unable to see and hear; and he lived in a constant state of paranoia, a throw-back to a primal instinct to always be aware of his surroundings. It left him afraid. The first time he was touched he set something on fire; he could smell it and the frantic movement around him told him there was real concern to put the flames out. Something pinched his arm soon after, forcing a wave of calm to drape over his nerves, stopping him from continuing to fight, mostly because he forgot why and what he was fighting against. The unseen hands found him again later as he followed a wall with his fingers, slowly moving down a hallway, saved at the last second from taking a header down the stairs. After that he stayed in his room, pacing when he was too bored or stiff to lay in the bed. He tripped over the bed legs and the chest at the foot of the bed one too many times before he learned to avoid them. He grew tired of the black, silent world; grew so tired of it he contemplated killing himself to put himself out of his misery. But the hands kept him somewhat grounded, an interruption in his obsessive counting once the touch stopped until the next time it entered his world. For that alone, the fixation on counting kept him just sane enough to not do anything stupid.

….

A faint ticking sound awoke him, its methodical rhythm oddly comforting in the darkness. At first, he didn't know what it was until the noise clicked with a name. _Clock. I can hear again?_ He opened his eyes, hoping he'd see something familiar but all remained dark. A doorknob turned making him flinch at the sudden noise. His hearing still muffled slightly he could hear bits and pieces of someone moving towards him. "Thrax?" The voice was soft. "Can you hear me?" He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He tried many times the past few days, weeks or months, he didn't know how long he lived in darkness. He could only imagine what he sounded like being unable to hear himself. Now that he could hear he didn't wanted to know what he sounded like. Something like relief entered the she-cell's voice with her next words. "Can you see?"

"No." He answered out loud before he thought about it, he sounded normal.

"Herb said it may take some time for you to heal completely." He didn't shake off her hand as she reached for him. "Come, you need to get out of this room."

"What was it?" He asked, staying in the safety of his bed. "Why couldn't I hear? Why can't I-?" He paused, unable to acknowledge the impairments. He felt the bed cushion sink slightly as she sat next to him. "George is trying with his rehab program, he's doing well but he was hit with a bad case of meningitis. There's been an epidemic of cells impacted by the symptoms…" She paused. "You were one of them." He felt her squeeze his shoulder gently. "Herb thinks it may be because you're malnourished and not in the best physical shape. Your body is run-down." He felt her stand. "Come."

She guided him down the stairs, the flooring changing under his feet, the coolness on his soles telling him they were in the kitchen. She wouldn't take no for an answer when she told him he was eating something.

….

 _Present_

 _ **POV of Grace**_

I could see the confliction in the eyes of Thrax when I told him the truth about why Daemon was standing in the middle of my sister's apartment, rather than the hospital. He wanted to be mad, enraged; but the emotion wouldn't come. _It is the bonding trait he has…with me._ For whatever reason, he couldn't feel fury over anything I did. Maybe I'd ask Daemon if he knew why that was, if he felt it with the woman who gave birth to Thrax. I could feel an ever so slight irritation wafting off the old virus towards Thrax, whether he picked up on it I didn't know and I didn't understand it. _He hides it so well. Now I can see where Thrax gets the master of hiding emotions from._ Before I had long to ponder where Ozzy and Thrax went to they returned, the white blood cell looking slightly harassed. _What did he say to him?_ Thrax wasn't stupid. I hoped he didn't lay into Jones too much for helping me swipe Daemon out from under Precinct 2's noses; but Jones was never good at pretending he wasn't just reamed a new asshole every time it happened. I thought for sure with them being back Thrax would head back upstairs and leave subtle hints for to me following him but he didn't. Lindi broke the silence.

"Well…um-I think this is _our_ cue to leave." She elbowed Shaine in the ribs, catching him off-guard as he was too busy staring between Thrax and Daemon. I wondered if she told him yet.

"Right." He said quickly. "Bye." He reached for the door only for it to open for him, and Veins appeared, stopping in his tracks incredibly close to the teenager. Then he ignored the two kids.

"I've got Chief Gram downstairs, demanding to come up here." The T-cell stared straight at Daemon. Then his gaze flickered to Jones. "Do you have any idea the bullshit you just started?" I bit my lip. When I told him I wasn't able to get a read on his feelings about the situation. Veins was always so reserved, he simply said 'okay' and hung up after saying his goodbyes. I wished he blasted me instead of being so quiet and saving his annoyance for Jones.

"Danny-" I hoped calling him by his real name would get his attention faster than 'Freddie' since most times it took calling 'Freddie' several times before he'd respond it. "You said you wouldn't blast him."

"That was before Gram, followed by the Commissioner got me on the phone."

"You got caller Id." Jones finally said.

Several different expressions crossed Vein's face. "What are you suggesting? I should have ignored the calls? Unplugged my phone perhaps? You're lucky you aren't getting suspended Osmosis."

"What is the big deal?" With the rising tension, I forgot Lindi and Shaine were still in the room and I think everyone else did too. My daughter was staring hard at Veins. "What does it really matter where he is? Hospital, or here in this apartment building; who gives a crap? The only reason Dengue Gram is livid is because he was outsmarted by a street cop and a civilian."

Her outburst brought silence in the room. _Damn… has she always been this smart?_ I glanced at Thrax to see how he took her words. As usual he was quiet, though there was puzzlement. I understood his sentiment. Her words seemed a little too specific. Then I noticed Daemon, his attention acute. _Like he's trying to figure her out? No…like he understands her in a different way than the rest of us._ She was always going to be different, that much I knew. While her metamorphosis finally stopped, her emotions grew calmer and we no longer had to worry about her lighting things on fire due to her angry outbursts; I couldn't help but feel like she wasn't done surprising us; she still had that viral RNA in her. _Was she-?_ I couldn't acknowledge it. However, her words seemed to bring Veins to his senses.

"You're right." He stared off into space. "He is pissed he was outsmarted by a street cop and a civilian…and since it is you Jones, it is even more insulting."

Jones took a chance his boss wasn't as angry as he had been when he came through the front door. "What can I say? I'm one of a kind."

Veins rolled his eyes. "That you are. Don't open the door, I'll be back." He left. After a moment Lindi went to leave but Thrax stopped her.

"Lindi." She paused, her hand on the doorknob. "Stay here for now, until Gram is gone." Her expression was strange as she regarded him and at first I thought she was going to dismiss his request, but then Shaine took her hand off the knob.

"C'mon. We'll watch bad movies. I'm sure there's some primetime crap on we can make fun of."

No one spoke as they passed us to Shaine's room, except for Thrax hissing to keep the door open; earning a look from Shaine before he disappeared into his room. Then Daemon broke the silence.

"I suggest helping her get a handle on her abilities before they spin out of control."

Thrax whorled on him in an instant. "And I suggest as soon as she leaves here you drop her existence from your memory bank."

"Fine." Daemon replied calmly. "But when she starts losing grip on reality don't say I didn't warn you."

That caught my attention. "What? Grip on reality?"

"Let me guess… a parent, possibly her mother, fell sick something initially unexplained while pregnant. Out of desperation, they sought a cure to save her and the baby… it worked-" His eyes strayed past Thrax to Shaine's doorway. "And here she is…"

"How the hell do you know that?" Jones asked, awed, before shutting his mouth quickly at seeing Thrax's glare his way.

The answer was so unexpected, I had no response to it and Thrax lost all boiling rage over the situation once the meaning sank in.

"Because it happened to your mother."


	7. Chapter 7

_Upper East Side_

 _Cerebrum_

 _Past_

He let himself into the apartment quietly, satisfied the door no longer caught on the floorboards but now swung loosely. It hadn't taken long for him to bend the hinges back in place and the look of surprise and happiness when she came home was enough payment for him. The TV was on low, the glow playing on her face while she slept on the couch. Taking care to avoid the creaky floorboards he noticed food still on the counter and opened the fridge to put it away, pausing when he saw the baby food. He still didn't know quite how he felt about the thing growing inside her. It was an anomaly she wasn't dead. He knew of a few stories where germs had mitosis-like relations whether consensual or otherwise, either way the innocent little white or red blood cell always died from the heat. Yet, Lara was still alive, sleeping soundly behind him. Why? He didn't know. All he was thankful for was he didn't have a murder charge added to his rap sheet. _As callous and shitty as that sounds…_ He shut the fridge and turned, jumping when he saw Lara was behind him. "Scare you?" Her voice thin, but teasing.

He tried to laugh it off. "No one scares me." She rolled her eyes, moving around him; the amusement fading. He watched her, concern rising in his mind. "Everything okay?"

"My mother visited me today."

The statement was odd to him but relief flooded him; glad he hadn't walked in during the visit.

"Oh." His gaze travelled to her belly, covered by the large, thick sweater. Every day she was a little colder than the last. "How was it?"

A strange look came over her face as she glanced at him. "My mother is dead Daemon." He felt his insides flip.

"So how did she visit you?" He asked slowly.

"She came in, right through that door. We had a whole discussion on everything from politics to my due date…. Then she said goodbye, we hugged and she left." Puzzlement pinched her face. "Except Gloria came in on the tail end of the whole thing and asked me who I was talking to." She looked at him. "Is this normal for a cell who is carrying a…baby like ours? Am I going crazy?"

He didn't know and it was unsettling to him. "Might have been a dream…"

"Maybe." She had doubts and he didn't blame her, he did too.

 _..._

 _Present_

 _Later_

The city of Frank was alive and busy below him as he stared out beyond the edge of the roof, focused on nothing particular while his mind was actively thinking about the past. So many things to mull over. His offspring downstairs, the woman who gave life to that offspring who killed her. He honestly didn't know how he felt about his current situation. Some part of him hated the other El Muerte Roja virus for murdering the only person who ever cared about him and vice versa. Then as always, the hate turned to self-loathing, since he knew he was just as guilty for Lara's death. _Guiltier than him._ The pain grew until it was almost too great to deal with as memories resurfaced. _The hallucinations were first to start, then the odd behavior and moods._ He made himself believe the symptoms would subside and even kidded himself into thinking she'd be alright, _they_ would be alright. But then it wasn't. _It was an idiotic dream._ He took a breath. "Arresting me Chief Veins?" He heard a slight groan as he kept his back to the T-cell.

"Don't call me that, sounds stupid when you say it out loud." Veins came up alongside him. "For the moment, you're safe. Told the Precinct 2 chief it wasn't wise to come barreling into the building with hundreds of tenants here."

"And Miss Estrogen?"

Veins paused at the question, his demeanor questioning as to why the virus even cared what happened to the nurse, but he didn't ask. "She'll be fine. That's the nice about being me, I look at the haters and they shut up immediately." He straightened from his lean against the safety bar. "There's no easy way to say this…it took a long time and a lot of debate for Thrax to get where he is right now. About two years ago he flat-lined Frank, our host, almost single-handedly." Something passed quickly in the virus's face as he listened, so fast Veins wondered if he even saw it at all. "Thrax's reputation is mended but we can't have two El Muerte Roja viruses-" The cell paused, obviously searching for the right word.

"Running around." Daemon finished flatly.

"Yeah…" When the Chief didn't say anything more, Daemon prompted him.

"Am I being moved to your jail or Precinct two's?"

Vein's eyes flickered. "Neither. Come on."

…

 _Mandibular Condyle_

 _6:45pm_

"Alright, alright, ALRIGHT… I'm coming." A bolt pulled back and the door opened, scraping along the floor as a thin coronavirus appeared. "Thrax, I'm beginning to think we should get a marriage certificate."

Veins waited patiently for the coronavirus to realize he wasn't speaking to Thrax. Maybe the microbe was tired because he was slow to notice the subtle differences until the real Thrax appeared coming up the stairs behind Veins and Daemon, in a furious whispering spat with Jones. Thrax fell silent the moment they were within earshot and noticed the scene. "What?" He asked brusquely.

"He's-you're not…" Dillon stopped midsentence. "Oh. Awkward." He left the doorway, disappearing back into his apartment, knowing his guests would follow. "What can I do for you all?"

Veins was first to follow. "Dillon, this is Daemon. He's here for a while. I was wondering if you'd mind housing him for a while?"

The coronavirus slowed in pouring himself a cup of water. "Stay here?" He glanced at Thrax. "Is there a quota for El Muerte Roja viruses over at Esoph-Landings?"

"Shut up and answer the question Rods." Thrax vehemently ignored the sideways glance Daemon gave him over Jones's head.

Dillon immediately picked up on the odd air between the two and appeared to weigh how dangerous the subject would be to bring up. "Well I don't know Chief…" His tone turned slightly sarcastic, his gaze stuck squarely on Thrax. "Do I have a choice or is your dog here gonna make me feel like I don't have one?"

Veins turned his snort into a cough. "You have a choice." He was quick to say as Thrax's mouth opened; Dillon turned away to take more time to contemplate.

"Thought you were here to tell me Shaine got himself into trouble."

"Not with _the dog_ breathing down his neck." Jones noticed his partner's stare turn icy. "Sorry." He moved away to be closer to Veins.

"If you don't have the room I'll under-" Veins kept one eye on each of his officers.

"Naw, I got the room." Dillon gestured awkwardly to the couch. "That is, if you don't mind that."

Daemon's gaze travelled slowly in the direction the microbe indicated. "It's fine." His tone quiet.

"Guess I got the room then." Dillon itched his head.

"Good." Veins pointed to the small case Jones had been carrying; Dillon watched in interest as the T-cell opened it and jerked his head towards the couch, telling Daemon to sit. The virus sat and watched dispassionately as an ankle bracelet appeared.

Dillon grumbled. "God, I don't miss that shit." Then he paused. "That thing is fool proof, right? Like it ain't gonna register me at all?"

"How many times have you worn one of these?" Jones twirled the ankle monitor in his hand.

"Too many to count or want to experience again, why?"

"Then you should be an expert on how it works." Thrax yanked the monitor out of the cell's fingers and put it into Vein's waiting palm.

"Okay smartass, one, the shit I wore is so old now it probably has its own shelf in the museum and two, this newfangled crap has hiccups all the time, especially if the host has muscle spasms or the spinal cord goes haywire. I don't need my door kicked in because some dumb rookie can't tell the difference between technological difficulties and an escaping parolee."

Veins ignored the bantering. "The transmitter will be downstairs so if anyone's door is being kicked in, it'll be the manager office first."

"Oh good." Rods sardonically toasted his cup to them. "So, I'll owe my landlord a new door before he kicks my ass out. Good to know.

"Hey, drama-queen. Tone down your bullshit because I'm allergic to it."

Jones rolled his eyes at his partner and heaved a dramatic sigh. "Do I have to make you wait outside dear?"

"Heckle and Jeckle, knock it off." Veins snapped.

"Who da hell is Heckle and-?" Jones's question was cut off by a swift elbow jab to the ribs by Thrax.

"Someone needs to make a story about you two. You're so hilarious to watch." Amusement lit up Dillon's face until Veins was nose-to-nose with him.

"Hey focus. Daemon is going to stay here with you. I'm not sure for how long but when I know, I'll let you know. He's got the ankle bracelet on, its set for this location only." He glanced at the older virus to see if he was paying attention. "I'm going to be by quite a bit, it is the only way to keep Precinct 2 out of here and judging from _your_ criminal novel I read, I don't think you want to see Precinct 2 any time soon Dillon."

"No, I do not."

"Then we understand each other." Veins turned to Daemon. "I don't think I need to tell you this, however, you remove that bracelet and I'll have no choice but to put you in a cell. It is also fire proof, courtesy of Immunity learning what your son over there was all about." Thrax tsked, but otherwise said nothing.

"I don't have anywhere to go." Daemon murmured.

"Well, unfortunately for you, that works in your favor whether you want it to or not." Veins took a step towards the door. "I'll drop by later. When do you go to work?" He asked Dillon.

"Tomorrow."

Veins nodded his approval, while signaling for Jones and Thrax to follow him out. "Was it smart to house him with a microbe?" Jones asked once they were far enough away from Rod's front door, his joking personality paused for a moment.

"Yeah. They got more in common with each other than him staying at Esoph-Landing and Rods gets a steady line of visits from us so even if he wanted to fart wrong he can't." Veins answered. "And he's out of Precinct 2's jurisdiction. It takes two to play that game and I can play it better. They can't do shit here without notifying us and if they try to, the violation will go before the commissioner and Colonic, I don't think they want that."

"Smart."

Veins put sunglasses on and looked over the roof of the car. "Don't try to one-up me and be catty about it, you'll always lose."

…

 _Past_

Little by little his sight returned until he was fully recovered from the meningitis strain he was infected by. He couldn't help but suspect if Baso was the one who infected him on purpose since the gang leader had a penchant for poisoning those who pissed him off or if he was simply in the mood to make another's life hell.

Living with the Cytes however, meant he didn't have to worry about the foods he ate or the liquids he drank. No one was plotting to kill him, he didn't have to expect beatings. Within the first week he realized the empty feeling he had was nothing more than a deep hole the continuous stress carved out. It was gone. Now he had to relearn how to live life without its constant grip on his mind. He enjoyed the stress-free life for a week before it came back with a vengeance when Edie came home with some books.

"I know you were struggling a little with those magazines Herb was showing you the other night." Thrax felt the heat return to his face like it never left. By then she could read him like one of the books she was talking about. "It is nothing to be ashamed about Thrax. No one has ever taken the time to teach you is all. I'd be happy to help you learn." Against his better judgement he humored her and let her sit down with him. He thought the experience would be as horrible as it was the last time he darkened a classroom door, but she proved him wrong. Edie was patient, far more than he felt he deserved. Yet, it didn't take long before he was able to sound out short sentences. Within a month he was almost to his age level in reading. Writing came after, a tad harder to accomplish but he muddled through it, mostly for her. Old, buried feelings resurfaced, of a time when life was better, made better by Sister Angela.

 _"Sometimes life throws us curveballs. We have to learn to dodge them."_

 _"I don't want to learn to dodge them." He grumbled._

 _The Sister smiled gently. "Come. Dinner is being served soon and if I remember right, you are scheduled with the cleanup crew this time."_

 _His anger slowly fading he let her pull him up. Then she pulled him into a hug as they walked back to the convent. "Conoce este mi hijo, estás destinado a grandes cosas. Puedo sentirlo, know this my son, you are destined for great things. I can feel it."_

Living with the Cytes, he was out of the criminal world and it was more appealing. No one was plotting to kill anyone to gain something, materialistic things didn't hold as much value as the breathing, living person next to you. It had been a long time since he was in an environment like that.

Sitting at the kitchen counter, Thrax looked down at his hands, hard red; he flexed his fingers watching the dexterity of the dark purple digits. So focused was he on his hands, the doorbell chime scared the daylights out of him; then he remembered in horror he was there alone. Dr. Cyte wasn't due home from work for another three hours and Edie had gone to the store. He hoped not answering the door would help get rid of the person but then he heard a key scrape in the lock. A young female's voice light with laughter echoed from the lobby.

"Don't you dare!" She laughed. "You know how amped my father gets over politics. This is going to be a politics-free, very nice, visit. You owe me."

"Mmm, that I do." Her male companion agreed. Some shuffling and dull thuds told Thrax luggage hit the floor; the noise was what broke the spell. He had to get out of sight before they saw him.

"I wonder where my mother is, she's always here." Heels clacked down the hall towards the kitchen, tapping on the plaque tiles upon entering, then she paused. Around the corner Thrax cringed, he forgot his plate. _You friggin moron._

"Darling, what's wrong?"

The female took a moment to answer. "It seems different in here. I'm not sure why." Slowly Thrax edged into the dining room, hoping to make it to the stairs and hide in his room. A picture made him pause. It was the Cytes with a young girl, by the looks of it on her graduation day. _Their daughter._ It was now or never. He made a beeline for the staircase and almost made it, except he ran straight into the sight of the daughter's male companion who had returned to the small pile of luggage. _Probably her husband or something. Shit._ The red blood cell stared at him for several seconds and he back at the cell.

"Honey?"

"What?" Her voice was faint from being in the other room.

"Are you sure we're in the right house?"

"What? Yes, we're in the right house-why do you-" The heels grew louder until the young woman saw him with one foot on the stairs. After a moment of shock hung in the air it dissipated with her regaining her voice. "Who are you? And why are you in my parents' house?"

He didn't have a good answer and was spared from attempting to explain by the arrival of Edie. She took in the scene immediately. "Emilia-I thought you weren't coming until next week."

Thrax forgotten, Emilia replied. "Jay and I decided to come early, stay longer-" Her attention fell back on the virus. "Who is he?"

Edie cleared her throat. "Let's all go to the kitchen, shall we? I'm sure you're hungry since its after noontime." Thrax took that moment to expect the invitation didn't include him and so started to climb the stairs but Edie stopped him. "Thrax, you don't need to make yourself scarce." Behind her, the daughter- _Emilia_ was watching the exchange, clearly scrutinizing the relationship between her mother and the stranger.

"I think I should." He whispered and quickly with no sound, scaled the rest of the steps and reached the safe haven of his room. Closing the door, he looked around. It had been almost two months since the Cytes took him in and in that time, he made sure to keep the room they gave him exactly how it was before he ever darkened their doorstep. There was no trace of him residing in it, he kept his books in a neat pile in the closet. It didn't feel right to do anything more with it than simply using it to sleep in. Now, he felt even more alienated from it with the daughter downstairs, no doubt grilling her mother about his presence. Nagging interest wormed its way through his gut. Would she yell? Tell her mother how stupid she was for taking in a virus child? He tightened his hand on the doorknob and opened the door carefully, taking a seat on the top step. He didn't need to be any closer to hear, he could hear just fine.

…

"Who is he?" Emilia lost no time asking a third time once she and her mother reached the kitchen.

"He is someone who was in need of help and your father and I were there to provide it for him." As always, Edie's tones were calm, even in the face of her daughter's growing tension.

"You sure he isn't a scam artist?" The question dripped in skepticism.

Edie tsked. "Emilia, we are hardly that stupid."

"Not stupid mom, naïve. They're all the same, the microbes-you know that…"

"Not him." An edge developed in the older she-cell's words. "In fact, he's very sweet and respectful. For someone so young he's very conscientious about not being a burden here… not that he is one. He hasn't had an easy life."

"He's an El Muerte Roja virus." The male companion-Jay finally entered the conversation. "They are very rare and…." He paused. "Most are psychopathic Edie. Just be careful."

Silence. Then. "Well, I suggest spending the evening and seeing what you think of him. I'll get the other guest room ready." Footsteps coming towards him ejected him off the top step and back into his room. He heard the pause on the landing, no doubt Edie was looking at his door before she moved away to the other guest room.

….

He tried hard to stay in his room, having made up his mind he wouldn't leave it until the daughter left; but Edie wouldn't have it and made him come out. He would have resisted, _gently_ , if he wasn't shaking so bad and feeling sicker by the second. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs everything was looking fake and the noise sounded like he was in a tunnel. In his haze, he saw Emilia watching him carefully, her face pinching slightly when even she noticed his current state.

"He's faking it." Her near in-audible whisper to her male companion sounded like she shouted it. He ignored her and went to sit, missing the chair entirely; Herb entered the kitchen in time to catch him.

"Whoa there, sonny. You okay?"

He could only nod as Edie slid food towards him. "Go on. Eat, you'll feel better." He weakly picked up the spoon, all the while hearing the he-cell, Jay, whisper his reply back to Emilia.

"I don't think he is. He'd have to be a phenomenal actor. Look at him Em…" He fell silent the moment Herb came within earshot, while a strange expression came over the younger she-cell's face as she considered his words.

…

 _Present_

 _2:23 am_

Daemon sat straight up from the first decent sleep he had had in a while, he knew he heard something outside the apartment. From his vantage point, he could see partially into his host's room, _Dillon_ , passed out on his bed, the low glow of a TV playing across his still form. A lock clicked snapping his head back around. Instantly his claw lit up only to slowly die. "Shit." He hissed. Out of boredom and interest he tried lighting his claw earlier in the day with the same result, he'd hoped it was a coincidence. _A fluke. You frigg'n idiot._ Even he knew by then, if the cytokine didn't kill a microbe, it definitely had no trouble decommissioning any body parts that posed a threat.

The door opened and a small figure appeared, pausing when they saw him sitting, stiff. One good thing his eyesight was still as keen as the day he was born.

"Miss Estrogen." He greeted quietly, not sure how light a sleeper the microbe was in the next room. She must have had the same thoughts and quickly, but without sound, closed the bedroom door.

"I was on my way home." She set her bag down. "I know its late, I'm sorry."

"I was already awake." He lied, hoping he sounded truthful as he shifted his posture. She casted a quick look at Dillon's door and then sat in a chair across from him.

"You're settling in okay?"

He nodded. "Your virus would like to run me through though. He probably would if he could get away with it." He turned his gaze on her to gauge her reaction to his statement. She didn't have one right away.

"He's your virus too, biologically. What are the odds of that?" Then she sighed. "He bluffed to someone once, saying it would be a piece of cake to find that person even if they body hopped. I didn't believe him, but here you are."

"I wasn't actively searching for him." A ripple of discomfort spread across his body before fading. "But you're right, this has to be the unluckiest damn odds I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

"Why didn't you keep him?"

Daemon became still. "Because the event that brought him into existence killed the only person I ever cared about."

Grace watched him in the darkness. "You never cared about him, at all?"

"Viruses are a parasite once they begin developing. She suffered more and longer than she should have." His orb eyes, so similar to Thrax's didn't leave her face, sending a chill down her back. "Don't make the same mistake we did."

The warning caught her off-guard. "What?"

"It would be-" He paused. "-wouldn't be right, if he lost control…." Realization dawned on her face.

"If we had a kid." He didn't respond, cementing her assumption. "Well you're here and he's here, Frank is only so tall. You might as well get used to each other."

"Yeah, we should." He agreed quietly. "Doesn't mean I will. I have a problem with trying to coexist peacefully with pissy individuals. I hope he doesn't treat you like that."

She almost laughed but turned it into a cough. "No, he doesn't. In fact, he can't get mad at me at all-that fact by itself he gets mad at."

"Well, it's nice to know he bonded with at least one person in his miserable life."

She considered him thoughfully, before leaning forward. "Daemon, tell me the truth. Do you really, truly hate him? Like would him dead make you feel better?" Most of the conversation he spent looking off into the darkness, at the question his attention returned to her face.

…..

 _3:54am_

The front door creaked open, reminding Thrax in his half sleep state he had to get some oil to stop the hinges from squeaking. Somewhere by his feet Luka yipped, too lazy to get up and greet her other owner.

"You really need a better schedule than this." He muttered, shifting on the couch.

"The same could be said about you." Grace shot back. "Where's Lindi?"

Thrax growled lowly. "Probably heating Flavum's bed." She laughed. After the Ehrlichiosis Crisis, Thrax laid off of Shaine, finally admitting the kid wasn't all bad and decided he couldn't keep Lindi and the kid away from each other; much to his hidden annoyance.

"Well Ozzy did say he's been supplying them with condoms." She wasn't disappointed by his reaction.

"Excuse me!? If I so much as smell what I think is a chemical difference in her, I'll kill them both."

She shushed him. "Calm down, I was kidding. God. You need to go to sleep." He sunk down into the blankets again, his golden eyes burning.

"I was asleep until you came in here, feeding me disaster scenarios." He grumbled.

"Bed. You need a bed, this couch sucks." She fished for his hands under the blanket and pulled on him until he sat up.

"You just want me to heat the bed."

"Self-preservation." She shrugged. "Can't fault me for that." She smiled at him as she towed him in the direction of their room. Passing Lindi's room he tried to see into it, wondering if she had slipped back into the apartment without him hearing her, but Grace kept a firm grip on him. "They'll be fine."


	8. Chapter 8

_Lower East Side Liver_

 _9:23am_

Thrax fished for his sunglasses as he passed the various immunity vehicles, their flashing lights nearly blinding him. Ahead of him Jones moved with purpose. _As usual._

"What we got?" The white blood cell asked once he was close enough to the other officers all clustered around the crime scene. He was interrupted by a rookie whose's face was pale as he barely turned in time to lose his last meal beside a dumpster. Thrax rolled his eyes.

"Go direct traffic."

Almost sweating the rookie shook his head. "I'm okay."

"I'm not going to ask you again." Thrax barely looked at him. After a moment, the young cell heeded his order; sheepishly joining other immunity officers by the road.

"Not much left to tell you what we got." A T-cell answered Jones's question, itching his head as he pulled the crime scene tape up for the two to bend under it. A sheet had been pulled so to keep the area private from the gathering civilians, all talking amongst themselves; the rumors already beginning to fly. "Name is Melvin Fibers I guess-"

"You guess?" Thrax took the last few steps towards the sheet before seeing what the officer meant by his vagueness.

"Da hell is that?" Jones appeared next to him, staring down at the mass of grey goo. "Is that an arm? What the hell is that?"

"That's Fibers." The officer answered. "What's left of him anyway."

"Microbe gang spat? Someone burn him up?" Thrax didn't miss the white blood cell's sideways glance his way as he peppered the cop with questions.

"No." A techie stood up. "There's no sign of abnormal viral RNA, aside from Fiber's microbial RNA…" She turned to the officer. "He tested positive for one thing though."

"What?"

Her face pinched in confusion. "Cytokine." She glanced up from her readings. "A lot of it."

"Cytokine?" The T-cell repeated in disbelief. "It can't be. I've seen what cytokine does and it doesn't do this."

The techie was unperturbed. "You've seen it in measured amounts. This is what happens when a cell is overloaded with it. We explode."

"This is the third one in two weeks." A detective appeared by Thrax's shoulder, chewing on a plaque stick, his eyes cast downward on the prone mess.

"Third one?"

"Mmm." The cell nodded. "One down on the left kidney, another in the port vein and now here. Beginning to wonder if we got a problem on our hands."

"Like what?" The immunity officer asked, perplexed.

"Like someone purposely targeting these cells. They were all either full microbes or halfbreeds." The detective hunched down to get a better look. "There's a report of at least one also possibly targeted, a microbe, but wasn't killed. No one could seem to give us a straight answer about the victim and we've since lost the trail on that individual. All we know is it was male." Thrax felt his insides flip.

 _Grace fidgeted. "Frank is his last stop. I don't know what's happened to him, he's being vague. But the amount of cytokine he's been exposed to, essentially destroyed certain body functions. They're sure he's not going to die but he's not going to be self-reliant."_

Thrax thought he kept his face blank but the detective noticed something when he happened to glance at him, "You alright virus?"

"Yeah. Why?" It was a conscious effort to arrange his face into a neutral mask. Jones was still working out the new information involving the three, possibly four victims, his hand a near blur as he scribbled down notes. The detective didn't get a chance to push the issue with Thrax as Jones looked up.

"So, what, like a-?"

"I'm thinking phagocyte." The detective still had his attention on Thrax, obviously not buying the virus's lie.

"Phagocyte?"

"Yup. Those things get an insatiable urge to destroy everything around them."

Jones laughed nervously. "Yeah, but they're like cannibals and besides, they don't really exist; at least not in the sense of the word-"

The detective looked down at the dead half microbe pointedly. "Myra just said the cytokine explodes a cell, she didn't say it makes parts of the body disappear." Looking down Thrax could see a fair amount of Fibers' body was gone. Jones followed their gazes.

"That's-" He paused. "Horrifying. You aren't kidding?" The detective shook his head.

"They should be found though. It isn't up to one person to bounce around the body unchecked, offing microbes and half breeds left and right, not all of them are bad." The immunity officer chimed in. "Fibers was one of the good ones. Kept to himself, worked, was productive…. He shouldn't be just forgotten about."

"He won't be." Detective Humor, as Thrax finally made out his badge in the dim light, murmured. "You both tell your chiefs I'll be in touch to talk about this case." He turned and melted into the crowd.

….

 _Mandibular Condyle_

 _10:46am_

The heavy pounding on the front door woke Daemon from a troubled sleep. Rolling his eyes open he fixed his gaze on the apartment door, not moving from his lay on the couch. It had been a particularly bad night with the sharp pains shooting down his arms and spine. Steeling himself he dragged himself into sitting position and then stood, going to the door and pulling it open with difficulty due to the stiff braces on his wrists.

"Why did you neglect to mention the serial shooter running around with cytokine in Frank right now?

"Hello to you, too." Daemon left the door, returning to the couch. Thrax ignored the sarcasm. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Sure you don't." Thrax snapped. "It's already been proven you were dosed with so much cytokine it's a wonder you aren't dead. Now how did that happen?"

The older virus fixed him with a glare, the first hint of emotion Thrax could associate with him since meeting him. "I don't remember."

"You're a fucking liar." With how sick Daemon was, Thrax didn't expect him to move so fast; instincts only drove the older virus into the wall. The self-consciousness he felt about his hand melted as he purposely laid his palm flat by Daemon's face so the virus could see the one important thing. It took that usual agonizingly slow moment, but his claw ignited. "We're both damaged, but you're in shittier condition than me, so I suggest you don't piss me off or attempt to attack me again."

"That so?" Daemon hissed. He twisted out of Thrax's grasp and then with surprising strength, flipped him over the couch; landing him hard on his back just as the door opened.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Thrax got to his feet, staring at Daemon. "Yeah. You are. A second longer you would have been interrupting a murder scene." Daemon scoffed as Dillon glanced between the two. Wishing he could wipe the contentious look off the virus's face, it only irritated Thrax more that he couldn't. "You keep silent on important shit like this again, and I'll give you a real reason to be quiet."

Daemon 'tsked,' "What are you really mad about, because I'm willing to bet my existence you don't give two shits about this host or anyone in it." He drew closer, Dillon's presence forgotten to the both of them. "What do you really care about some serial shooter running around this body?" He didn't give Thrax time to answer. "I can answer that. You don't. It's against your nature."

"Daemon." Dillon finally cut in, his eyes on Thrax more than the virus liked. "That's enough."

Thrax closed the distance between them, unblinking. "You're right, when it comes down to it, I don't give a shit about the cells in this body. I do however, care about two people." He took a breath. "There have been three victims, two of them weren't even the targets. They had relations to the targets.

"If Grace or Lindi for shit luck, end up impacted by this run-amok with a gun, it won't be the shooter I go after first. It'll be you, because you failed to mention their existence in the first place."

"Thrax-" Dillon murmured. "You should go." When Thrax didn't move, he added. "Listen, I don't need two highly dangerous viruses dooking it out in the middle of my small ass apartment; probably light shit on fire… and Grace will kill me if he winds up in any crappier shape than he's already in."

"He flipped me with ease over the couch, I don't think he's that bad off." Thrax turned and left the apartment, not caring the door slammed behind him.

…

 _ **POV of Dillon Rods**_

Climbing the stairs to my apartment I wished for the millionth time my stamina was better than it was. According to the doctor, I was never going to be better than I was now, the long-term poisoning of Ehrlichiosis left a lasting impression I was never going to be able to shake. My tiredness faded when I opened my door in time to see the "crippled" virus living with me land a significantly younger, less crippled virus at my feet. If Thrax hadn't been as surprised as me by the strength of Daemon he probably wouldn't have wiped out as bad as he did; instead he laid on his back for a moment longer than I would have thought. I felt relief when Thrax listened to me instead of continuing the altercation, leaving. I watched him go. "What the hell was that?" I shut my door, hoping it would make Thrax think twice if he decided to come back and finish the job.

"Having a bad day." Daemon sat, his strength left him.

"Who you or him?"

Amusement flickered across his face. "Both I guess." The amusement didn't last and he wouldn't elaborate as to why his sudden change in mood.

…..

 _Past_

Thrax's chance to do something, anything productive for the Cytes came when dishes were left til the morning. He got up early and as quietly as he could: washed, rinsed, dried and put away everything. So focused was he on his task he failed to hear anyone get up until he turned, last plate in hand and dropped it, startled by the appearance of Emilia. The resulting _smash_ on the floor made him flinch. His membrane burned as he robotically when for the pan and broom to sweep the mess, trying all the time to avoid her gaze.

"You cleaned the dishes?" Her question was off, a statement of the obvious as her eyes swept the kitchen.

He nodded once, not speaking.

"Why are you here?" She asked, not mincing words; her tone hard.

"I don't know." He whispered. "Your parents took me in when they weren't obligated to do so, I haven't left yet because I have nowhere to go."

She didn't respond, instead she went around the other end of the island, turning on the shot maker; seemingly unperturbed by the shattered plate as he swept it up and deposited the fragments in the trash. He tried to ignore her stare and the lack of discretion she used while she gave him the silent third-degree.

"Em-" The male companion _Jay_ appeared, stretching. "Oh hello." He greeted Thrax when he noticed him. Thrax gave a jerked nod, heading for the doorway to give them space. "Hey." Thrax paused. "You don't have to leave." Thrax didn't trust the niceness, he barely trusted the almost _loving_ atmosphere Edie gave him. He didn't respond, knowing his no response was rude, but he knew they didn't like him. Maybe Jay was attempting to give him a chance but Emilia could barely hide her contempt. He couldn't shake the knowledge it was her old home he was occupying, he wondered if she felt replaced. He scaled the staircase and shut his door in time to hear Herb and Edie's open and their low murmuring as they passed his room and went downstairs. He knew he didn't have a right to be in their house, in the pristine neighborhood. As it was he couldn't leave most times as his presence would raise too many questions. He sat on the bed, looking down at his hands, the brick red as always, a stark contrast to everything around him. _You don't belong here._ He swallowed before laying down, wishing he could sleep on command.

….

The house was quiet as he slowly descended the stairs, it wasn't hard leaving through the front door as he shouldered a backpack. He was grateful deep down for everything the Cytes had done but it was his turn to do them a favor. Every day he stayed with them was another dangerous day: whether he be found by one of his enemies or Immunity figured out the upstanding Dr. Herbert Cyte was housing a deadly virus. He was good at disappearing and even better at being self-sufficient. He took a last glance at the house and then turned his back, walking away.

…

 _Age: 17 years_

It didn't take long for him to grow tall, a known attribute to his kind; his membrane tightened giving him a skeletal appearance, like he didn't eat much. He stayed away from the gangs, preferring to not owe someone for giving him a roof over his head or to make enemies with someone else for not joining their cause. The threat of Baso coming after him was long gone, as word travelled fast that someone bumped him off, splintering what was left of the gang. The new leader didn't give two shits about him which he liked just fine. Strange enough he hadn't seen Vinícius or Spyrah. _Maybe they skipped town._ He hoped so.

"Hey virus!" Virus wasn't his name but he found bizarrely he didn't care about being referred to so informally, he'd rather that than his name screamed across the marrow station. _Ironic I'm here of all places… a deadly virus and I'm working in the immunity industry._ The coworkers around him were leery, their sideways glances telling him they wished they were anywhere else but next to him. _You got your wish._ He headed towards the foreman office where the cell was looking harassed, buried under a mountain of files and two of the three office phones ringing off the hook. "I need you to go to the epidermis station, number eleven prompto. They got some issue they won't elaborate on." The cell shoved a scribbled note into his hand and then waved him out of the office as he continued his argument on the phone.

Thrax resisted rolling his eyes, this would be the fourth time he was sent somewhere because of his abilities no one else had. He was finding it tiring. "Sure."

It wasn't long into his trip he began regretting his obedience. Stuffing the irritation down, he stood for his stop on the train. The platform was crowded but a wide berth was created the moment cells noticed him. As much as it insulted him on a personal level, he was glad; less idiots to stand in his way. He climbed the subway stairs, appearing in the middle of a busy section of the City of George. He crossed the street and arrived at his destination in time to run into a woman on her way out of the building, her belongings spilling out on the sidewalk. For a brief second, he considered leaving her, having already caused a scene as cells around them took notice; especially his appearance so different from all the clean-cut, expensive attire around them.

The she-cell huffed, clearly agitated as she bent down for her dropped purse and binders. Wishing he could disappear from the scene, he helped her gather her things, she never looking up at him; though she paused her eyes fixed on his hands. _Shit. She's going to cause a damn scene._ He pushed the small stack of binders together before straightening; he didn't expect her to do the same.

"Oh my god." She stared at him in disbelief. He thought he knew her but her staring was getting to him so he dismissed her reaction and opened the building door to go in. "Wait!" He slowed, his hand on the door handle. She came closer, not afraid or repulsed by his obvious viral nature. "Thrax?"

Hearing her voice again, he suddenly remembered her. _What the hell are the odds of this._ He hadn't yet confirmed her half question so he could still deny it if he wanted to. He opened his mouth to do so, but a different word came out. "What?"

"I can't believe it's you." Emilia Aqueous came forward. "What happened? You left. My mother was devastated."

"I wasn't under the impression you cared." He pulled the door open and disappeared inside, hoping she wouldn't follow, but she did.

"I-" She lost him in the crowd for a moment, but her persistent 'move out of my way' orders got her the space she needed to reach him again. "I never meant to make you feel unwelcomed. I know I came off that way and I'm truly sorry. You should come see them, my parents. They'd love to see you again."

He stared at her hard, trying to decide; whether she was blowing smoke up his ass, but it didn't appear she was. "I don't belong in your world, the same way you don't belong in mine."

"That's not the way my mother sees it-"

"Then your mother is blind." He snapped, his temper flaring. Uncertainty followed by a small level of hurt crossed her face before winking out.

"Well, you know where they live if you change your mind." Her invitation was soft. His self-loathing came in ten-fold, she seemed to have Edie's talent in bringing out buried emotions with the right wording. Guilt slapped him and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he couldn't. In his deep thoughts, Emilia had begun to walk away. He didn't know what to call her, if she'd take offense to him being so informal if he called her by her first name; but he did it anyway.

"Emilia." She paused, turning to look back at him. "I'll make an appearance." She beamed, her smile genuine.

…..

 _Present_

"We're going to get caught." Lindi bit her lip, looking behind them as Shaine led her towards Colliculus High School.

"Makes it all the better experience." Shaine grinned as he pushed a small window open and waited for her. "C'mon Estrogen."

"This is trespassing."

"Do you expect anything less from me?"

She scoffed. "No, but your record is clean… and now we're going to break and enter into the high school just so we can go swim in their pool?"

"It ain't breaking and entering if the window is open." His face lit up at his logic.

She crossed her arms. "Max left it open, we're entering without permission."

"Ah-ha." A different voice appeared behind her; Shaine's two childhood friends. "Told you Mrs. Pore wouldn't shut the window." Max rubbed his hands together. "Shall we?" He slid through the window, disappearing. After a moment Ash followed suit. Shaine glanced back at her.

"You coming?"

She rolled her eyes and hunched down, sliding in through the basement window.

…

The pool room was humid and dim, the water flowing in a circular motion from the filters. Max was already in, sinking below the surface. "Didn't waste time, did he?"

"Nope." Ash jumped in, purposely landing almost on top of Max.

After only a moment of hesitation Lindi pulled her clothes off. "See you came prepared." Shaine gestured at her.

"Only because you guilt-tripped me into it." She didn't wait for him, instead diving into the water. Some time went by before Lindi swam to the edge and pulled herself out of the water.

"Where you going?"

"It's getting late, my parents are going to realize I'm gone. I'd like to be a little dry before we go."

"Those darn pesky parents." Max sighed dramatically. "She's got a point. My mother thinks I went to the library." He climbed out as well.

Shaine held onto the lip of the pool. "Your mother bought your lie of going to the library? You don't read."

Max fixed him a mock insulted glare as the microbe pulled himself out of the water. "I do too…. When it suits me." He grabbed his pants. "Damn it's cold." His complaint made Lindi smile because it reminded her of Thrax.

Shaine thumped him in the chest. "Quit whining." He pulled his hat on. "Let's go, I think Bernie will be showing up soon. I don't feel like evading him."

"He's too old to catch us." Max paused in the doorway and looked back at them. "Did you hear that?"

"I did." Ash drew closer, glancing down the hall. By now Lindi was used to her heightened senses, no longer unnerved by them.

"We aren't alone."

…..

Silently the four followed the dark hallway, intermittent thuds echoing off the walls. Turning a corner, a light shone out of an office adjacent to a classroom; Shaine stopped Lindi from going forward. Indistinct mutters accompanied every thud.

"That's the chemistry class, isn't it?" Ash whispered. Shaine nodded, his lack of verbal answer unnerving Lindi. _I'm already unnerved._ Something about the late-night scene was giving her the creeps. The thud turned into a crash; all four visibly jumped

'What. The. Hell.' Max mouthed carefully leaning around a partially open locker; Shaine kicked him to warn him to be quiet.

The unknown person appeared in the hall, holding a box labelled Hazard. _We have to get out of here._ Lindi yanked Shaine's sweatshirt sleeve. "Let's go. Right now." He could see her fear and didn't question her; turning he poked Ash and Max, jerking his head. Lindi didn't look back until she heard the resounding smash of the locker door as Max accidentally kicked it when he turned around. She froze, scarcely hearing anyone breathe.

"Whose's there!?"

"Damnit, run." Shaine grabbed her hand and sprinted back the way they came. Her fight or flight response in overdrive, she was startled to see they reached the basement window they entered through so quickly. "Go." Shaine boosted her up through the window, where Max and then Ash followed her. She heard a loud yell and bang, but Shaine appeared and pulled her with him. The fence clinked as they all climbed it, and landed on the other side in time to be light up by an immunity cruiser headlights.

"Aw. Shit." Ash voiced what Lindi was thinking.

The doors opened and two officers got out. "What are you doing here?"

"Out for a walk." Shaine lied, his words so convincing like he had practice lying a million times over. _Because he has…_

"Out for a walk and you're out of breath? All four of you." The partner questioned.

"We were power walking." Max wilted slightly at the look Shaine gave him.

"I bet." The first cop said sarcastically, he lifted his flashlight to beam the light in their faces. "Have you been smoking?"

"Smo-? No…" Max's indignant answer raised eyebrows.

"You know what, I think we should take this down to the precinct." The cop gestured for them to come to the car.

"We're being arrested?" Ash squeaked.

The partner rolled his eyes. "Really? We got better things to do then arrest four teenagers while they take a jaunt around a school."

 _Thrax is going to kill me._ She wished they could get out of getting in the cruiser, but the cops didn't seem like dicks, ready to use their authority to arrest them. If they tried to run then no doubt they'd incite the wraith of the local precinct. There was only one choice.

…

 _Precinct 12_

 _10:30pm_

Shaine felt Max sink into his seat as they sat waiting, Lindi having left for the bathroom; he didn't pay much attention until his friend's elbow jabbed him in the ribs. None other than Thrax appeared in the lobby.

"Is he going to kill us?" Max whispered.

"No." Shaine looked back at his phone.

"No?" Max sounded surprised. "Isn't he like super protective of her? And he's here to get her from an immunity station, a place she wouldn't be at if it wasn't for us?"

"Max." Shaine growled, not actually mad. "Chill, if he's going to kill anyone it'll be me." The desk sergeant nodded, pointing in their direction and Thrax headed towards them. Shaine didn't have to watch the virus come towards them as Max's fidgeting got worse the closer Thrax got to them.

"You know last I knew Shaine, Colliculus High was a little out of the way of the mall." He didn't bother arguing, knowing the virus had a point. Both Max and Ash's faces darkened with embarrassment as Thrax's gaze swept to them. "Where's Lindi?"

"Bathroom."

"Damn." Max hissed, drawing Thrax's attention back to him though he didn't notice. "I had hoped it'd be my dad getting me." A female microbe had her hands on her hips, firing at the sergeant twenty questions. Shaine could have sworn amusement flickered across the virus's face before winking out as quick as it came; but Thrax's attention deviated when Lindi returned from the bathroom, slowly coming to her father's side. Thrax's golden irises slid back to his face.

"Let's go before I change my mind and leave _you_ here." Guilt twisted Lindi's face as Thrax turned and led them to the front doors.

"Later man." Max looked thoroughly miserable the longer his mother's hen pecking went on with the desk cop and only gave a slight head nod; next to him Ash didn't look much better.

…..

As usual, Lindi wished Thrax would be more verbal when he was mad; she'd rather him yell, maybe wave his arms a little, but no. Instead the virus was silent as they walked to Jones's car where the blood cell waited, leaning against it. The silence continued even after Jones pulled out onto the main road.

"Do you realize how lucky the four of you are, having Crease and Quik come across you and not some other cop?"

"Yeah… would have sucked if it was-"

Thrax twisted around to fix Shaine with a glare. "I'm not kidding Flavum." Shaine stared at him wordlessly for a moment.

"Neither am I, I know what dicks the Precinct 12 cops can be."

Thrax rolled his eyes and faced forward. "Well-I hope you both enjoyed your walk because it's going to be the last one you have with each other until I say otherwise." Jones's head tilted slightly but otherwise said nothing.

"You're grounding me?" Lindi asked, incredulous. She had never been grounded before.

"No." Thrax's response came out hissing. "I got no problem with you going out with Maddie."

Lindi sat back in her seat, at a loss. She wanted badly to tell them both what they saw at the school, but something stopped her each time she opened her mouth. Instead she looked out the window and watched the City of Frank as it went by in a blur.

…..

 _Colliculus High School_

 _Next day_

It was barely 8am when Lindi found her friend Maddie glowering in the direction of the teacher's desk. "What's up?"

"Him." Lindi looked up to see Anguli-Oris, a science teacher who she had issues with and who now liked to ignore her existence. _Ever since I refused to give up contact with Shaine._ Lucky for her boyfriend, he no longer had the he-cell; but she did. As if he heard Maddie, his eyes landed on Lindi his gaze accusatory as he studied her. "He's in a shit mood for some reason." Maddie continued. "So, I'm also in a shit mood."

Lindi felt the villi of her membrane lift as Anguli-Oris continued his staring match with her; she was eventually the first to look away, wondering why he was acting so strange. Until that moment she had been part of the wall to him and was treated as such. A loud bang cut the class chatter in an instant as he stood after kicking a drawer shut. "Open your books to page 78…" There was a pause. "Lindi Estrogen." She felt her insides flip at being publically addressed. "Stay after class." He didn't elaborate, instead continuing with his original subject.

….

She gathered her belongings slowly, feeling anxiety as the class emptied; she spent the whole 50 minutes wondering what the teacher wanted her for and she didn't like it. She thought about skipping the meeting and walking out with everyone else, but somehow felt that would make matters worse. Did she fail a test or something? Forget a homework assignment? She couldn't remember. Maddie paused as she picked up her own bag. "I'll wait for you." She gave a reassuring smile, a reassurance Lindi didn't share. As the last student filed out and the door shut, she was left alone to Anguli-Oris as he rearranged his desk, almost deliberately like he was purposely dragging out the time. _Intimidation? It's working._ Then he looked at her, his face emotionless. "You know, I don't appreciate it when I'm spied on Miss Estrogen." _Spied on?_ He didn't give much chance for her to decipher his meaning as he abruptly stood and walked towards her. "Now, I want the honest truth. What did you see?"

"What did I see?" She repeated stupidly. "I-I don't know what you're talking-" She jumped when his fist slammed down on her desk.

"Don't lie to me!"

She didn't like the situation she was in, all alone her word against his if anything happened. She stood. "I don't have to talk to you. One, you're not a cop. Two, I'm a minor no one is allowed to interrogate me like this without my parents' present." She went to leave, but he grabbed her arm in a vice grip, yanking her close to him.

"If you so much as breath a word, about anything you saw. I'll find you, microbe." He grinned, his smile a little deranged. "That's not a threat, it's a promise." She must have been unable to hide her horror because he laughed. "I got a little list going and its only growing longer. One got away from me, but imagine my delight when I realized how closely it looked to a certain someone you are in contact with." _Daemon…Thrax._ His grip grew stronger on her wrist. "I will find it and when I do, I'll do what the Mayor and Immunity should be doing and are slacking on." He let go of her roughly, landing her back in her chair. "Now, get out of my classroom." She didn't wait to be told twice.

Maddie was waiting for her in the hallway. "You okay? You look shell shocked. Lindi?"

The air that felt like it had been taken from her returned and she found she was able to breathe better. "I have to leave."

"Leave?" Concern grew on her friend's face. "What happened? What did he want?"

The strain to breathe returned and it grew rapidly, making her light headed. She saw a bench and tried to sit, but almost missed if Maddie hadn't caught her.

"How was the dick-meister himself today?" Shaine appeared, but his half joking attitude vanished when he saw something was wrong with her. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know, she won't tell me." Maddie cast a frown down the hall. "Anguli-Oris made her stay behind and said something to her."

Shaine dropped his bag down in the corner as he hunched to her level, gently shaking her arm to get her attention. "What happened?"

She knew she shouldn't say anything, especially after the threat she received, she took a breath but was cut off from saying anything.

"There a problem?"

Lindi got to her feet quickly as Anguli-Oris rounded the corner. "No." She tried to pull Shaine away, but he stood his ground, watching the teacher.

"There is a problem, and you're it." He snapped as he grabbed his bag and turned, taking hands with Lindi. "Come on Maddie." The she-cell was quick to follow, leaving Anguli-Oris to stare after them.


	9. Chapter 9

_Mandibular Condyle_

 _3:45pm_

"She won't tell me what happened." Shaine kicked a particle stick aside, sending it skittering off the road.

"She doesn't have to." Dillon dug for his keys as they neared the apartment complex. "Maybe nothing happened."

Shaine shot him a dark look. "You didn't see her face. She was scared." He itched his head under his hood. "She's skipped that class now twice."

Dillon turned to glance behind them as the sound of a car approached and jerked his head to get off the road. "Skipped it?"

"Yeah. A little overkill, don't you think?" Shaine noticed Dillon's distractedness. "What's wrong?"

At first the microbe didn't answer him but then he did, his tone low. "This car behind us. I moved us over to let them go by but they aren't…This isn't the first time." An urge to turn around was hard to ignore as Shaine kept pace with his friend, maybe a glare would send the driver a clear message. "Pretend you don't notice." Dillon guessed his thoughts.

"Why? Tell them to stop with the mind games." He started to turn to give the offending car a look, but Dillon grabbed him, holding him face forward.

"I said ignore it." His sharp tone took Shaine back a little, not used to anything other than the friendly-fatherly bond with his longtime friend. They steered right towards the complex and went to the first set of stairs; as they reached them the car stalking them sped up and away, disappearing down the street.

"You said that's not new?" Dillon stared off in the distance, silent. "Dillon?"

The call of his name snapped him out of his fog. "It's just someone with too much time on their hands… c'mon." Daemon was at the window when they entered the apartment, still like a statute. Dillon slowed his movements as he took in the virus's uneasy silence. "You okay?"

The red virus didn't answer immediately. "That's the third time you've been followed like that."

Dillon shrugged. "Someone being an idiot." He picked up a small pile of mail. The virus appeared to want to say more but his yellow eyes landed on Shaine first, instead he moved away and sat down; appearing to be wrestling internally with something.

"Thrax's… _presence_ here the other day wasn't without merit."

"Mm-hm." Dillon absently agreed, still going through his mail.

"I'm being serious, Dillon." The virus's voice was soft. "You know those murders they've been all over about on the news?"

The microbe narrowed his eyes, finally focused on his roommate. "Yeah?"

"The same person committing those murders shot me and fucked me up due to how much he got me with."

Dillon didn't react at first, so Shaine did. "You didn't say anything to anyone about this?"

"To who?" Daemon snapped. "The _other one_ said enough for both of us when he paid me a much unappreciated visit."

"Colonic needs to know." Dillon finally found his voice. "That isn't something to keep silent about."

Daemon's gaze drifted past their heads. "I think the person suspects I'm still alive. And I think the person in that car is one in the same." His next words startled the two microbes. "You shouldn't be here."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dillon faced him fully.

"It's pretty obvious what I'm talking about." Daemon shot back. "You can't be here."

"Where the hell am I going to go?"

"Anywhere but here." A thud caught Shaine's attention from outside the door; at first, he brushed it off as nothing until he saw a dramatic change come over Daemon. The virus sat up straighter. "Get away from the door. Now." He shut the light off as they listened, moving to stand next to him. A shadow passed over the window blinds, moving slowly and bending slightly like they were trying to see in. An arm hit Dillon in the chest as Daemon forced them further back into the darkness. "That door locked?" He asked, whispering.

"Automatically, every time it opens and shuts." As if on cue the doorknob rattled, shut the coronavirus up immediately, obvious self-doubt crossing his face. Daemon wished more than anything he could ignite his claw. _I'm useless…as useless as a cell…._

…..

Grace wanted nothing more than to go home and find the couch to lay on and sleep. _Screw the bed…_ She'd only consider the bed if Thrax was there and she knew he was working late. Instead she decided to stop over at Dillon's and made a quick assessment of Daemon, it had been a day or two since she had seen him. And as much as she didn't want to admit it, there was a strange compulsion within her to see the older virus, she wished it would go away or make sense. Veins managed to smooth over her illegal act of breaking the virus out of police custody; she didn't know how he did it but she would be forever thankful. She even avoided repercussions from her superiors, though she had suspicions they were just happy the virus was out of their hospital.

Pulling into a parking spot she quickly noticed a figure standing near Dillon's door. "-the hell?" She got out quietly, still watching the person as they bent near the window. Pretending she was oblivious to the person she shut her door loudly, fiddling with her keys and bag to buy time. Counting the seconds, she sneaked a look up to Dillon's door again and saw the figure was gone. Knowing it was as illegal as adrenaline and not caring, she pulled a can of stomach acid out for the ready in case she needed to spray someone in the eyes with it. She didn't see anyone as she ascended the stairs and quickly glanced around before knocking.

After a moment, the deadbolt pulled back and Dillon opened it. "Hey." She thought she detected some nervousness off him but couldn't be sure. _He's hiding it too well._

"Hey… I wanted to drop by and see how things were doing." She decided to ignore the strange scene she drove up on for now.

Dillon stood back. "Come in."

…

 _FPD: Precinct 13_

 _One day later_

 _4:43pm_

The main floor was buzzing lowly as cops left and right whispered to each other about what could possibly be going on in Vein's office after a particularly irate cell stormed in, demanding to speak to the chief. From Thrax's vantage point he could just see in through the closed transparent tissue door, and he could have sworn the T-cell's face glazed over once or twice. _Only does that when he's multi-tasking or having a hard time keeping his attention on something insignificant._ Finally, the door opened and Veins lifted a hand, silencing the still ranting cell; as result the room fell deafeningly silent. Veins made eye contact with Thrax and then made a half gesture to come to the office.

"What does he want you for?" Jones was super attentive, his eyes rounder than usual. "You haven't done anything."

"Stop talking to me so I can go find out." He could feel all the eyes on him and wished they'd all get back to work, instead of being hyper-focused on one cell coming in, ranting like a lunatic. Maybe Veins wanted him to fry the idiot; for that he may comply happily.

The cell was fidgeting and shot the virus a death glare upon entering the room. He found it difficult to ignore the hostility, but did so only because he respected Veins too much to start an argument in the middle of the office. Veins sat down wearily, clearly still feeling the effects from the erhlichiosis infection he caught not too long ago. Though he was fairly young, physically the infection aged him.

"This is Todd Anguli-Oris." Veins sat back in his chair. "Your daughter's science teacher." The cell missed the slight irritation in the chief's words, but Thrax didn't. He shared the annoyance too. They were being interrupted at work for something that could have been talked about over a phone?

"Yes." Anguli-Oris puffed himself up. Thrax found it difficult to look away from Veins and focus on the teacher, taking a breath he grudgingly gave the cell his full attention, though half of him was still monitoring Vein's reactions to the situation.

"Your _daughter_ hasn't been seen in my class now for three days."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The cell snapped. "Now four absences count as total failure of the class."

Thrax let silence reign in the room for a moment, enough to cause some uncertainty in the teacher. He was good at making people uncomfortable. "You came in here, interrupted the flow of productive work to tell me my kid has a truancy problem?"

The cell's jaw cracked. "Well, with the lackadaisical attitude you got about this situation, it's no wonder she's got delinquent behavior. Rubbing off from that Flavum kid if you ask me."

"Well I didn't ask you, now did I?" Thrax straightened from his lean against the wall, taking his time to continue the conversation. "I don't have a short memory Anguli-Oris. I clearly remember the shit you were giving her a few months ago so I have no concerns about Shaine Flavum. I do however, possibly have concerns about you." The cell squeaked, not expecting Thrax to suddenly have control of the conversation. "But I'll go home, be a good parent and discuss this with her, if that makes you feel better." He glanced at Veins. "Can I go now?"

Amusement had slowly lit up the chief's face as Thrax said his piece, at being directly asked a question he quickly lost the ghostly smile. "Yeah."

He wanted badly to slam the door but didn't, his thoughts were on Lindi. She never portrayed behavior like this. _And why didn't Flavum say anything? The two of them are so close they must know the color of each other's underwear. He has to know she's been skipping._ He didn't know who to get ahold of first. _Flavum._

….

 _Later_

Ten past the hour, Thrax wondered if the kid saw him and went out a side door, though he purposely chose and an inconspicuous spot to sit and wait until he got out of work. Just when the virus was beginning to think of a plan that didn't involve killing Flavum for being a pussy and not meeting him face to face, Shaine appeared; his hood up.

Quickly and silently, he fell into step a few paces back but close enough reach the kid easily if he tried to run. "You know stalking's a crime, right?"

Thrax cursed under his breath. _God damn coronaviruses… some are deaf as a post and others, like this one, are not…._ "If I was stalking you, you wouldn't know it."

Shaine turned around. "What do you want?"

"Why is Lindi skipping Anguli-Oris's class?" By the expression he made, Thrax could tell Shaine hadn't expected that question. _Good, less chance of him to lie to me._

"How do you know about it?"

"Answer my question Shaine."

"I don't know…" Maddeningly enough, Thrax could tell it was a truthful answer. _Damn it._ "But I've been thinking about it and might know why."

…..

Thrax tried to be patient while he waited for Shaine to tell his theory, so far, the kid had been dreaming up every excuse possible to not open his mouth and start speaking. Thrax wanted to be annoyed but found he couldn't be. _He's either being a controlling shit right now because he knows I want an answer or he's incredibly uncomfortable…_

Shaine stirred his drink slowly. "The night you had to pick up at the station, we went to the high school to swim in their pool. When we were leaving we heard some noises so we went to see what it was… the hallway was dark, but we could someone coming in and out of the science classroom." He took a breath. "I'm not going to say it was Anguli-Oris because everything was dark, but he's the only one with a key to the room. He was carrying some boxes labelled hazardous. At that point Lindi wanted to get out of there so we left, but Max kicked an open locker shut by accident, alerting that person to us being there."

"Is it normal to have boxes around labelled that?"

Shaine shook his head. "Not that I know of… but-" He faltered, and watched cells as they came in to the café.

"But what?" Thrax prompted.

"Lindi's never smelled cytokine…" He finally met Thrax's steady gaze. "I have and the hallway reeked of it, Max agreed. Ash hasn't been exposed to it before so he also wouldn't know."

Thrax stared at Shaine, silent; inwardly surprised at the information he just heard. "That's a really heavy accusation Shaine."

"I don't know if it was Anguli-Oris, like I said it was dark."

Thrax leaned forward. "Coronaviruses have heightened sensory abilities. Don't try to bullshit me and say you couldn't see. You did see." Uneasiness threaded across the kid's face, though he tried to hide it. "Was it him or not?"

…

 _Mandibular Condyle_

"No arguments." Dillon warned the moment his door was open. Thrax rolled his eyes.

"Scouts honor." He entered the apartment behind Shaine, no sign of Daemon. "Did you evict him?"

"You'd want that." Dillon replied sarcastically. "No… he's sitting in warm water, it helps the pain he's in since nothing else really works…. Where are you going?"

Thrax didn't answer as he went to the bathroom and entered it. He expected some snarky comment from the older virus but nothing came. For a moment, Thrax felt a pang of pity for him as it was written on Daemon's face the pain he was in. "I'll only irritate you for a minute." He sat down on the toilet.

Daemon breathed in and out. "I'm tired of fighting with you. It's like what your-what Grace said, you're here and I'm here… might as well make the most of it."

"Yeah…" Thrax agreed absently, as he played with his hands. He realized after a second he was going through the motions of playing with his absent bead bracelet and abruptly stopped. "Where were you when you got shot?"

Daemon's gaze became a little more alert. "Where was I?" He stared off into space. "I don't remember, there's a span of time I blacked out. Why?"

"I think one of the Colliculus High school teachers is the one going around shooting microbes."

"That's awfully specific, why?"

Thrax glanced at the virus. "Because Lindi's been skipping his classes all of a sudden and Shaine just told me some damning information."

Daemon narrowed his eyes, mulling over the conversation. Then he sat up straighter. "You know what… she was here earlier and I thought I saw bruising on her arm-but I dismissed it as shadows or something." Silence fell heavily. "What are you going to do?"

Thrax sighed and stood. "I'm going to go home, talk to my daughter and then depending on what she says to me, if I find out he laid a hand on her, he's dead. I'm only reformed until someone like that twit pisses me off, then I'll go after them, all leashes forgotten."

Daemon was quiet for a moment. "They're lucky to have you, you know…. Both of them."

Thrax didn't expect the compliment and drew a blank on what to say in response. Finally, the word thanks came to mind. "Thanks…" He said awkwardly.

…..

 _Past_

Once upon a time Thrax could duck under the cover of the expensive cars lining the Cyte's street to avoid prying eyes; but at 17-years-old it was laughable to think he could do such a thing. Cells passed him and Emilia, their expressions scandalized as they raked him from head to toe with wide eyes. Others glared at him. How dare he have the audacity to pollute their safe, innocent homes with his viral garbage. He heard that more than once. Emilia was too oblivious to notice. _She has more important things to worry about than how I'm being perceived by her parents' neighbors._ Ridiculously dedicated, she waited the three hours for his shift to end at the marrow station. He thought he could shake her by saying he had to get back to work but underestimated her happiness at finding him. He thought it was all an act, but soon couldn't deny the genuine joy. Grudgingly, he let her lead him to her car but they didn't go in the direction he expected. Instead they stopped outside a small house where a little girl happily greeted her with 'momma!' He pulled his hood up quickly, not wanting to deal with the frightened squeal sure to come from her daughter's mouth when she saw him. When asked who he was, Emilia simply answered, "an old friend."

His original belief of her ignoring all else turned out to be untrue when she turned and looked at one couple as she hunted for her house key. "Is there an issue?" The two older cells mumbled something unintelligibly and moved on, only glanced back once at them. The old cells forgotten, Emilia grabbed his hand; like it was a natural reaction his hand twitched at the touch, wanting to keep himself away from her and her daughter, but she ignored that too and pulled him up the porch stairs.

"They should be home soon." She took off her daughter- Zoe's coat as an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia hit him upon looking around. Everything was the same, clean but not sterile. The only place he ever had the chance to call home. "Are you hungry?"

He took a moment to focus on her as she retreated in the direction of the kitchen. It had been a while since he ate, a day or so. Still affected when he didn't eat, he trained himself to hold off the bad symptoms as long as he could. The foreman wasn't impressed when he passed out his third day on the job, hitting his head on the conveyer belt. "You don't have to do that." He drifted after her, looking at everything and feeling the pain of not staying and growing up there.

Emilia smiled at him as she gave Zoe a bottle. "I'm going to be my mother for a moment. What would you like?" She rattled off a few different types of food.

He chose the least problematic dish, a simple sandwich. From her expression, she knew he chose that on purpose but she didn't pressure him. He tried to ignore the looks of innocent fascination wafting off Zoe as she stared at him, she hadn't taken her eyes off him once she noticed his different anatomy. Thankfully, Emilia noticed his awkward situation and distracted Zoe. About the time the sandwich was put in front of him the front door opened and three voices filled the space between himself and them. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to disappear. Slowly he stood, Emilia glancing his way. "I'm not giving into those ridiculous demands from religious zealots."

"For god's sakes Herb, it was a pamphlet."

"I don't care if it would have made me rich just touching it…" The he-cell was first to stomp into the kitchen. "Emilia, you're here and you brought Zoe-" The little girl jumped out of her chair excited and ran to her grandfather. "Hello there, little lady." His greeting died when he took in the sight of Thrax, standing in his kitchen. Lost for words he looked at his daughter for answers but she only smiled. Footsteps behind the doctor carried Edie into the room, slowing to a stop next to her husband.

"I ran into him downtown." Emilia offered.

"I can't believe you're here…" Edie didn't say anything else, ending her statement of disbelief with a sudden closure of the distance and strong hug. _Has so much changed that I don't like being touched again?_ He forced himself to ignore the uncomfortableness. This she-cell was the closest thing he had to call a mother, the least he could do was reciprocate the action. _Was she always this small?_ Granted he wasn't the size of a tank like some other microbes, but his growth spurt at fifteen-year-old sent him towering over almost everyone he met. Edie drew back; and true to form asked. "Have you eaten?" She took in his skinniness with only the eye a mother would have.

"Yeah…."

She didn't look convinced as she studied him. Behind her, Herb finally gave an encouraging smile.

"It's good to have you back sonny."

…..

He tried to leave hours later after being guilt tripped into stay for dinner, but it was almost like Edie had a sixth sense and knew he was planning to leave. "But you just came back." He had a thousand arguments lined up for that inevitable statement, but the moment it was said he found he couldn't say them, couldn't argue the reasons why he should leave. With no excuses and no pre-made lies, he wasn't ready when she asked if he had a place to stay. Lately it was the shelter, he didn't need to say anything, she already knew.

"Come." He followed her up the stairs slowly. "I'm so happy you're here." She turned to look at him as they reached the second floor. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." He said truthfully. "I'm sorry I left…It was for the best."

Her face was partially shadowed as she surveyed him. "I know you feel that way, but I don't. Just because you're born one way, doesn't mean you have to be that way." She opened the bedroom door he slept in as a kid. "Don't feel you have to tell us anything… all that matters is that you're back." She paused for a moment, before smiling. "And a head taller than Herb." She stepped away from the door to let him by. "See you in the morning."

He glanced her way and gave a tentative smile, the action foreign to him. "Night."

….

 _Present_

 _Esoph-Landing_

Thrax didn't expect Grace to be home, but there she was in the kitchen on the tail end of making dinner.

"You're home early."

He took his coat off in time to be hit in the knees by Luka. "So are you." The spotted dog bounced around him happily before plopping herself down in front of him, waiting. "You just ate I'm sure. No food for you." She whined pitifully. Thrax growled under his breath and grabbed a treat off the top of the fridge and tossed it in the direction of the living room. With an excited bark, she chased after it.

Grace's eyes lit up. "She's finally got you trained." She laughed. "Sue sent me home. For once the ER was dead.

Thrax nodded his acknowledgement. "Is Lindi home?"

"Yes, she's studying... I think."

"Why you think?"

Grace put her full attention into stirring. "She's been weird-ever since you picked her up after _their_ little jaunt to the school."

Thrax figured as much. "I'm going to just-" He didn't finish his sentence as he migrated in the direction of her room. He knocked lightly on the door receiving no answer at first, but then there was a quiet reply of 'come in.'

She was sitting with her back to him as she drew for an art project. He sat on her bed, watching for a moment while her hand glided across the particle paper, knowing he couldn't stall much longer or stare at her; she'd eventually ask why he was there. "I need to know what Anguli-Oris said to you."

Her hand abruptly stopped. "What do you mean?" She turned to face him; to someone else she could have fooled them into thinking she wasn't scared by the question, but to him it was written all over her face.

"You know what I mean." He replied softly.

"He didn't say anything to me."

He let silence fall in the room for a moment before hitting her with his next question. "Then why have you skipped three of his classes?"

A deer-in-the-headlights look crossed her face in an instant, before guilt followed it. Sighing dejectedly and without looking at him, she answered softly. "He wanted to know what I saw that night I was at the school with Shaine, Max and Ash. I said I didn't know what he was talking about and that he couldn't interrogate me like he was doing without a parent present…." She paused. "He got mad and told me…. that he'd find me if I said anything, called me a microbe." Confusion spread across her face. "Then he said he had a list going and he was working through that list and there's been only one lucky microbe who got away from him-said he looked like you."

 _Daemon._ Thrax thought he'd be ready for her explanation but found himself stunned at her confession. He never expected the length Anguli-Oris would go to confronting her. The astonishment only lasted so long before an internal anger took over. His instincts were to leave immediately and hunt down the cell, but there were rules and guidelines set by the mayor of Frank; and no matter how enraged he was, he couldn't go randomly killing someone. _I can make it look like an accident._ Surprisingly, even to himself, his rage wasn't only for the threatening of his daughter, some of it was for the other El Muerte Rojo virus too, though he didn't know why. _He was at the wrong place, at the wrong time…. Still doesn't change anything._

"What are you going do?" The question knocked him out of his racing thoughts. She was chewing her lip, obviously dreading any one of his possible future actions.

"Nothing at the moment." He stood and turned to leave.

"Do I need to go to the class tomorrow?" Her tone clearly stated her fear of his answer.

He looked at her, torn. If she didn't go, she'd fail the class… _fuck the class-she doesn't deserve being subjected to someone who is a possible threat._ "No. I'll take care of it."

Returning to the kitchen, Thrax knew the reaction he'd be receiving once he told Grace. He wasn't disappointed.

…..

 _Colliculus High School_

 _9:34am_

"I don't even know what I'm going to say…" Grace snapped as she marched up the sidewalk to the school. "Probably a good thing you're here. I'm going to go off. I know it."

For once reasonably rational, Thrax grabbed her elbow to stop her. "Just remember Lindi comes here five days a week. And we don't have the finances to send her to a different district if things get ugly."

Some anger faded from her face, she gave a jerked nod.

The usual staring landed on Thrax like a spotlight the moment they entered the building. Most took his presence as a bad sign and were always quick to disperse. "I'd like to see Mr. Folic." Grace stated to the desk ladies."

"Do you have an appointment?" One of the women had her eyes on Thrax, her expression unreadable.

"No. But the importance trumps politeness and the courtesy of notice."

"Well, I'm sorry, but if you don't have an appointment then you can't see him." The lady turned back to her shuffling of papers.

"Fine." Grace glanced at Thrax. "I believe we still have Superintendent Thalmus's contact number, right?"

Thrax purposely ignored the sudden scandalized looks. "I think so… if not, I'm sure Veins can get it for you."

"What are you doing?" The she-cell demanded. "We can have you forcibly removed from here."

"Is that so?" Grace scoffed. "You may be able to _forcibly_ remove me, but honey, I doubt you can forcibly remove him."

A look of sheer horror crossed the she-cell's face. "Fine." She stalked down a hallway, her voice muffled as she told the principal he had company. She returned half a second later. "He's _waiting_."

Grace put on a bright, friendly smile. "Thanks." A smile that was not reciprocated.

…

"You have cameras in all the classrooms." Grace gestured towards the monitor behind the he-cell.

"Yes, we do…" Mr. Folic agreed slowly. "But how many days ago was this? It would take a long time to go through them."

"That won't be issue." Thrax's impeccable hearing picked up on a certain blood cell ignoring the protests of the desk ladies.

"Hey…" Jones poked his head in. "Am I late?"

"No." Thrax murmured. "You're right on time."

"Excellent." The blood cell came forward and handed the virus an envelope, who then slid it across the principal's desk.

"What's this?" The he-cell opened it and then blanched.

Thrax sat up straighter. "I'm only going to say this once. I'm a patient person, if there is section of that footage that shows anything other than how a teacher should behave around a student, I'm going to come down on this school so hard, you won't know what the fuck hit you." The principal was struck speechless.

"Won't be pretty." Jones added. "We'll show ourselves out and wait for the copy of that tape."

It didn't take long for a copy of the footage to be made, a frantic PA call over the school's speakers for the IT tech to come to the main office was shouted twice before the cell showed up, bewildered.

"Well that wasn't so bad." Jones put his sunglasses on. "Want me to give it to Veins?" Thrax hesitated, catching his partner's attention. "Thrax-if there's any sort of misconduct on that tape, Veins needs to be first to see it, you know that." Thrax did know that, and it irked him. The desire to see what exact happened to Lindi to make her so fearful burned so painfully in his stomach he almost defied the statement Jones made. But then he held it out to the white-blood cell. "Do not leave me in the dark, you tell him that." Jones watched him for a moment and then nodded.


	10. Chapter 10

_Past_

One day turned into two days and before he knew it weeks had passed. Early mornings he got up to be at the marrow station on time and then nights he returned to the Cytes. He felt he could breathe again, no more worry of whether what little he had to his name was being stolen or whether he'd have a bed at the local shelter at night. Being el Muerte Rojo, he already had the misfortune of judgement passed on him every time he was seen in public. To avoid stigma falling on any one of the Cytes he evaded situations where they'd be seen with him; his plan worked for the most part.

His hood up, he was pulling his coat on when Jay appeared. "Hey." The blood cell greeted. "Where you going, it's your day off isn't it?"

"Convenient store."

"You're walking there? That's bit of a hike."

Thrax shrugged. "Walking makes you live longer."

Jay laughed. "A very true statement. How about I go with you? I'll drive." He stepped in closer. "Besides I don't think Zoey will be very happy if her favorite person is gone longer than necessary."

Thrax opened his mouth to argue but paused, a strange feeling coming over him. The blood cell was right, over the course of his return Zoey had grown quite attached to him for reasons he couldn't fathom. Everyone thought he was scary to look at and he even knew he was. No germ looked like him. He was too angular, just the right muscle tone and his membrane was as red as blood. _Built to entice. Reel in._ But the little girl ignored it all. "Fine." He relented and waited for the cell to get his coat.

They rode in silence for a ways before Jay broke it. "You know I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. You can lose the hood if you want."

"Keeps me warm." Thrax answered. "Everything is so cold… including you guys. Mrs. Cy-Edie is the worst."

The blood cell smiled. "That's because you're so warm, no one wants to let go of you once they have ahold of you. I'll tell you, Zoey's never been so easy to put to sleep like she is when she's with you." He had a point, there were many times Thrax's arm or hand fell asleep but he didn't move in fear of waking her up. "You know you're part of the family, right? Edie and Herb look at you like a son." _Family. Son._

It had been so long he almost didn't know the meaning of the two words. He looked down at his coat, long and black, a gift when he first returned to replace the holey one he had. He felt funny accepting it but didn't want to appear ungrateful. He felt the exact opposite, especially when wearing it kept in the radiating heat. _I guess a trench coat does fit my style… and it's black, the best color for me all things considering._

"Yeah, I know." The conversation didn't continue as the blood cell pulled into the parking lot of a busy store. "This isn't the gas station."

Jay looked up. "I know. You need to stop being so cheap on yourself. Those protein shakes you've been practically living on are nothing more than a watery soup and it's disgusting. I'd know, I made the mistake of buying them once." He didn't give Thrax time to protest as he got out, grumbling to himself he followed suit shooting Jay a look over the car; one the cell returned with a winning smile. The quick bubble of annoyance faded as quickly as it came as even Thrax couldn't deny he was right about the shakes they were disgusting.

They split up, Jay heading to the clothing section and he, to the grocery department. His hand was hovering between the watery soup protein shakes as Jay called it and the higher end brand. _Stop being so cheap on yourself._ "Fine." He hissed under his breath, taking the cell's advice and choosing the better shake.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He froze, the voice was cooing yet had an edge to the tone. _You've got to be kidding me._ Slowly he turned to see a thin bacteria, membrane as white as snow and eyes as red as him. "All grown up." She continued. "And so appealing." She reached out to him but he quickly slid out of reach.

"Go away."

Her smile widened. "It's a shame we have that mother-child relationship Thrax, I'm almost attracted to you." He rolled his eyes, putting the shake back. He could live with disappointment if it meant losing her in the crowd. He turned to leave but the sight of Vinícius standing so close to him without him knowing unnerved him. _Why did I not hear him?_ "What do you think Vinícius?"

The germ's eye lit up at the question. "I think I was right in deciding not to kill him that night he was an insolent little brat to me."

"I'm only telling you this once. Leave me alone." Thrax tried to pass him but Vinícius copied his step, blocking his way.

"You do remember you are mine right? Saved you from that sad little orphanage." One claw came up to tap his chin, contemplating. "What was that sister's name? The one who tried to stop the adoption process."

Thrax felt his insides flip painfully. He prayed he wasn't right, but there was only one reason why Vinícius would ever bring up her name.

"Angela." Spyrah answered.

"That's right, Sister Angela." _Then let us put it this way… that Sister you love so much. Imagine we leave and you stay here, what if she were to have an accident?" He paused for dramatic effect. "And you not accepting our offer was the cause for her untimely death?_ Vinícius's amusement cracked a little. "I forgot to add if you pissed me off in any way, she's also get an untimely death. Cute her son attempted to come to her aid. We made him watch before he died." He leaned in, a sick death smell wafting off his breath. "And you Thrax, pissed me off leaving in the dead of night like you did. Incredibly selfish of you."

He barely heard the virus, inside he was reeling. Sister Angela, the one person who ever cared about him before the Cytes was dead because of him. Because he left that apartment to escape Vinícius and Spyrah. _She's dead because of me… She's dead. Kobe is dead._ Vinícius's cruel smile widened. "Feeling emotional? What are you planning to do Thrax? Are you going to set me on fire? I've always wanted to know if I am fireproof-"

"Hey." _Shit._ Before he could figure out a distraction, anything, Vinícius wheeled to see Jay appear at the end of the aisle.

"You never learn do you." He whispered, eyes glittering. Thrax took that moment to push by the virus.

"You forget you ever saw him. He means nothing to you." He hissed.

"But he obviously means something to you." Spyrah's exotic features were light with cold amusement.

Thrax let the fire spread down his hand and gather in that one finger, a silent warning. Vinícius only grinned more. "We'll see each other real soon, I promise." Without a care he snaked a hand around Spyrah's waist and sauntered away.

….

 _Present_

He wished the headache would go away as he sat with his head in his hands, his vision swimming in and out of focus. The melatonin pills he still had in a drawer were becoming too appealing to ignore when there was a knock on the door. Slowly he stood, tripping over Luka as she perked up and bounced underneath him to the door. "Luka." He growled as he swept her up and back onto the couch. 'Stay." A pathetic whine answered him but she heeded his command and sank down, waiting.

Wrenching the door open still facing her to make sure she listened, he didn't see the two visitors for who they were immediately. "Bad time?" Dillon asked.

Thrax grumbled out a sigh and leaned against the doorjamb, his headache intensifying. "What are you doing here Rods?"

The skinny germ had the decency to appear abashed. "I uh-my door lock broke." He itched his head embarrassed.

Thrax cracked his eyes open to slits. "So go buy a new lock or tell your landlord."

"He doesn't feel comfortable being there." Daemon spoke up, having stood slightly off to the side with an air of waiting for Rods to say the right thing.

Thrax straightened. "Well… I'd tell you to go buy a weapon except you're both convicted felons."

Dillon shot him a look. "So are you."

"This isn't about me." He snapped. "And I don't carry a firearm anyway."

"We'll stay out of your way. Just until Immunity catches the guy killing off all the-everyone…" Dillon trailed off. "Like us."

"Do I look like I got room?" Thrax relented. "I can't take both of you."

"So take him. I'll go with Jones or something."

"Jones doesn't have room, not with Flavum taking up space." A unreadable expression crossed Rod's thin face, one Thrax quickly pinpointed as disappointment. He cursed the conscience he had grown since becoming a citizen of Frank. "If you that concerned about being offed by some vigilante cell with too much time on his hands, I know someone who would be okay with you rooming with them I suppose." He turned and grabbed his coat. "Let's go."

 _Family_

….

Since falling victim to the Ehrlichiosis crisis recovery wasn't as fast as Veins would have liked, ignoring doctor's orders he returned to work far too soon but managed to maintain his hard ethic without complaint. But physically he still bore hallmark characteristics of being deathly ill at one time. Just skinny enough to barely ward off the whispers of whether he was fit enough to be chief of Frank's busiest precinct and the dark circles under his eyes, not from the long hours he kept but the endless fatigue haunting him.

Thrax wasn't sure what the T-cell's real thoughts were when he opened the door to find them standing there. "Yes?"

The single word question was enough make Rods quake, Thrax could see his hands shaking but not him. _Seriously? Do I have to be the one to do everything?_ He paused. Maybe he was judging too harshly. Not every germ was like him, self-assured. Veins didn't scare him, not once did he ever feel intimidated by the T-cell; but Rods was different, just reading his rap sheet proved that. Not every Immunity encounter he had was because he was caught doing something illegal, some had been profiling. "Can we talk for a minute?"

…..

"Funny how he of all people is coming to Immunity for safety."

"Well technically he came to me first."

Veins made a face. "He's one of the luckier ones, having a decent repour with us." He glanced out into the living room where Amoriah was engaging Rods in a conversation to keep him feeling comfortable; the occasional nervous look in their direction showed he wasn't entirely distracted. "If I take him, you know what that means for the other one."

Thrax thought he had done a decent job ignoring the inevitable but at the mention of the other virus, once again he was reminded he was going to be walking out of there alone _with him._ "Yeah."

"Have you talked to him?"

Thrax shot him a look. "No. I don't plan to."

"Why not?"

He itched his head before remembering it was a nervous tick of his, something Grace loved to make fun of him for. _Psychomotor agitation she calls it._ "Don't have anything to say to him."

Amusement crossed the chief's face. "Maybe _family alone time_ will change that."

"Doubt it." Thrax straightened. "So you're fine with Rods staying here?"

"You didn't leave me much of a choice, Rojo."

Thrax paused. "Have you watched that tape yet?"

Something passed in the T-cell's face. "No… I'm waiting til tomorrow so you can be involved. I enjoy watching your amazing amount of self-control when it comes to you obviously fantasizing murder in your mind."

"I don't fantasize murder."

"Sure you don't." Veins shot him a smile. "I'll see you out."

….

They walked in silence, Thrax glad for it since he had been dreading the time when he would be alone with Daemon. Eventually it was the older virus who broke the quiet. "It was nice of you to take Dillon seriously."

"Why wouldn't I?" Thrax kept his focus on the distance ahead of them, wishing Esoph-Landing was closer than it really was.

"Someone like him is not viewed as an equal to us." Thrax could see Daemon watching him. "Or at least others see it that way."

Thrax took a breath and didn't elaborate beyond simply saying. "Rods is decent."

They made it back to the apartments without further conversation _._ "Hey." Grace perked up upon seeing them enter. Her happy features flickered slightly at seeing Daemon. "Is Dillon okay?"

"Yeah." Thrax shut the door "He's with Veins."

"He's at Freddie's place, living there?"

Thrax gestured to Daemon with an air of irritation. "He's staying here… with us. You can have the couch I guess."

" 's fine." The older virus muttered.

Grace was quiet for a moment. "There was another slaying in the Tarsal district, Precinct 15 is on it. It's all over the news. Has he watched the video yet?" Thrax kept his eyes on her to better avoid the peaked interest of Daemon but then Grace added. "There's a possibility one of Lindi's teachers might be the one running around killing all these germs. He might have threatened her, we don't know. She's not saying anything."

"Veins said we'd watch it tomorrow. As for that teacher, he's never shied away from making it known he doesn't like the microbial students, that's what Jones told me Flavum said. Too bad there's this thing called probable cause which he hasn't given much of yet."

"We'd be no better than him if we jumped on rumors." She murmured.

"Why do you think the all microbes are on such an evenly levelled playing field? That's all we do is jump on rumors, it keeps their numbers in check."

"While the stronger more elite microbes flourish…" Her soft statement was enough to bring on some feelings of guilt at the type of thinking he still had but always kept a silent lid on. Daemon's earlier mention of equality came to mind. _Someone like him is not viewed as an equal to us_. _Rods._ Until that moment he didn't really put much effort into caring about the killings but the coronavirus's approach to him for help caused him to pause for a second. It wasn't up to one person to play jury, judge and executioner, not when there were microbes like Dillon Rods walking around, productive members of society… _enrolled in the virus protection program too._ Not just any germ got that privilege. The belief he held on to that his world only stretched as far as Grace and Lindi, no one else mattering, was becoming harder and harder to continue possessing. _Guess that's what happens when you live in one place for a long enough period of time._

"Something like that." He murmured.

She gave a half nod and turned. "I'll go get some sheets." She disappeared down the hallway to the bedroom.

On the couch closest to Daemon, Luka sat leaning as much as she dared to smell his hand and arm. He reached out slow to her, rubbing her head. "It's interesting as to what capacity someone like her goes to ignore what someone like us is and always will be."

The words were exactly what he felt every day since he awoke in Frank's molar after his botched take over. He took a breath. "Someone like me wouldn't exist if someone like you hadn't gotten in with a blood cell." He faced Daemon. "How much regret do you have with that? Every day since that day she took her last breath?"

Daemon purposely looked away, ignoring the question as Grace returned. She could feel the rising tension but played ignorance as she shooed Luka off the couch and made the bed while Thrax took that opportunity to make a swift exit.

Afterwards, she came to the bedroom, pausing in the doorway of the bathroom. "He's not going anywhere." She kept her voice down. "You might as well make peace with that."

"I'm preferring to ignore it." He said, pulling his shirt off. "He's only here because Flavum's ass is upstairs."

"Is that a hundred per cent of the reason?" She questioned. "You didn't feel any level of concern for his wellbeing?" When he didn't answer she entered the bathroom and sat on the toilet. "I don't think it was his intention for your mother to die. Should he have known what would be the outcome? Maybe. But really you and I are no different, you just refuse to let neither one of us make that mistake…"

"Because of _his_ mistake Grace." His golden eyes landed on her. "Say what you want, think what you want, but my existence in life is a mistake and I'm okay with that; but this-" He gestured to her and him.

"-shouldn't be."

"Don't you think that's my decision too?"

"It is. It's one of the few reasons I'm still here."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer right away, finally slowing his increasingly agitated movements. "You know what it means." He whispered.

Silence filled the small space, then she stood. "Well, I want to go with you tomorrow to see what's on that tape."

He gave a jerked nod, not looking at her and waited until she left to fetch Luka for bed before slowly looking up to his reflection in the mirror.

…

 _Precinct 13 FPD_

 _8:20am_

The look on Vein's face was not a reassuring one when Thrax walked into his office the next morning. "Conference room." Was all he said; Thrax turning and steering Lindi out of the room and down the hall with Jones keeping Shaine from bolting, bringing up the rear. No sooner had they sat, Veins entered with a laptop. "You were caught outside the high school last week, I don't care why you were there." Lindi flushed from the embarrassment of an Immunity chief acknowledging their break-in. "What exactly was it that you saw?" Over her head, Shaine glanced at Thrax the same time the virus looked his way.

"We didn't see much." He answered, hearing a hissing grumble come from Thrax's direction. "But Anguli-Oris was moving boxes that smelled like cytokine. You can't mask that kind of a smell." His eyes fell to the laptop. "Why what does the video show?"

"Regarding Lindi, nothing."

"What?"

Veins kept one eye on the virus while he continued. "Conveniently, that camera in that room doesn't work but-" He opened the screen. "As luck would have it, I don't think the school IT person meant to include this."

On screen there was footage from a different angle of a cell heaving boxes, in an aggravated fashion out of a room, some boxes open directly below the camera giving a clear view of its contents. The footage wasn't colored but small gently pulsing objects laid within. _Cytokine._ Thrax thought.

"Now unfortunately-" Veins paused the video. "-though Tom is trying his damnedest to fix it, there's no real statute for the amount of cytokine a cell can possess. You can thank Brad Stoma and all the morons like him for that."

"But this is on school gr-" Grace started.

"Which is why I threatened Precinct 2's chief with overstepping my bounds and going over there myself to arrest the son of a bitch." He closed the laptop. "He should be there shortly."

"Are you going over there?" Jones asked. "I got nothing to do you know, if you want-company…"

"I don't want company, but I'm willing overlook my wants and needs if you promise not to kill him." His statement was directed at Thrax.

"I'm not stupid enough to try anything in a precinct." Thrax muttered.

A rare smile lit the chief's face. "I didn't think you were."


	11. Chapter 11

_Past_

He blamed his work schedule for his absence at the Cyte house, instead wandering the streets dodging Immunity whenever they drove by. The angst returned in full force as the chance meeting with Vinícius and Spyrah ate away at his insides. It had been so long he slipped into a false sense of security, how the hell they ever found him was mind blowing. _Not really… you do stick out like a sore thumb._ For the millionth time he cursed his red membrane. Why couldn't he had been less conspicuous? He wasn't sure which of his parents was the virus but he cursed them both for good measure.

He straightened from his lean on his knees, hunched at a bus station checking the time. Edie had to be wondering where he was. He chewed his bottom lip, wrestling with whether to go or stay on the bench; not wanting to worry her won so he stood and pointed himself in the direction of home. _Home._

…

"There you are. I was beginning to worry." Edie pulled him by a snoring Herb in the living room to the kitchen.

"Sorry I'm late." He automatically apologized, she waved it away.

"No matter." Her gaze became steadier as she studied him. "Though Jay told me you ran into two cells you knew the other day at the market?" _Cells?What a naïve idiot he is._

Visions of throttling the cell entered his mind instantly, he had told Jay to drop it after being interrogated about the awkward scene and him threatening the two bacteria with his fiery claw. "Yeah."

"It was not a happy meeting, was it?" Her question was soft. "Is that the reason why you've been late coming home every night?"

He wanted to blast her, tell her to follow Jay's example though obviously the cell ignored his order of forgetting the two ever existed. The less she knew the better, the safer they all were from his unfortunate past. But this was Edie, no matter how much he tried the anger would not redirect onto her. _That stupid bonding thing El muerte rojo supposedly have…. That thing no virus actually experiences except me._ "The less you know the better."

She watched him for several quiet seconds. "You know Thrax I told you once before, your classification does not define who you are. It does not matter you are a virus all that matters is how you live your life. If you want to follow the stereotype and indulge in the criminal world, that's your choice." She paused. "Or you can be you."

"Be me." He repeated before taking a slow breath. "I won't hesitate to leave again, if it means keeping the trash I'm associated with away from you."

"You aren't trash Thrax." She looked up from wiping the counter. "If you feel you have to do that, our door is always open for you when its safe to return. We love you Thrax, like our own son."

He let her meaning sink in. "You're the closest thing I've ever had to a family… I've never tha-"

"You don't need to." She cut him off. "We already know."

…

 _Present_

 _Second Lobe, Left lung_

"Frank, this place looks almost as bad as the south end of our man's butt crack." Osmosis Jones craned his neck to see their surroundings better. Old abandoned factory buildings loomed around them. _This is about as cliché as you can get._

"That's a real nice mental image Jones, thanks." Veins braked. "There's Scabs…" The new Precinct 2 chief had the same energy as the previous one-it made Thrax want to throttle him even without having opened his mouth.

"Why are we here?" Thrax asked.

Veins shrugged. "Innocent til proven guilty, means we don't have a right to demand this slimebag's ass into one of our interview rooms."

"Says who?"

Veins opened his door, shooting him a side glance. "Who do you think?" He got out slipping dark shades on. Thrax left the car too, turning to block Jones from going anywhere.

"I don't like this Ozzy."

"The strange meeting place you mean-?" The white blood cell paused. "Since when do you call me Ozzy?" The virus's eye roll got an apologetic cough. "It is a bit weird. Who picked this place?"

"Thought you did." Veins said pointedly to the Precinct 2 chief.

"No." Scabs admitted. "It was Anguli-Oris."

Thrax couldn't help himself. "You let a fucking suspect choose a meeting place to discuss homicides he's been committing?

"A _cell of interest_ Virus, he ain't supposedly done anything you haven't already done."

"Thrax." Veins warned.

"Listen to your superior germ."

Veins turned immediately, pulling his sunglasses off to make his point clearer. "If you got a problem with one of my officers Jim, then you have a problem with me. Do not insult him."

Scabs scoffed. "We took a poll you know, all of us. I think maybe two or three chiefs said you would get rid of that virus on your own. The rest of us said you'd be just like Charlie."

Thrax had been about to tell Veins to let it go when he saw a small red dot danced along the back of the chief's neck. Instinctively he slammed his hand down on the cell's back, the cytokine missing and burying into a building wall a static skittering up its surface. He didn't have long to ponder before more shots rang out.

"Get up!" He grabbed Vein's hand and yanked him unceremoniously behind their vehicle. Jones skidded around the other side, pulling his gun free.

"What in the blazes-?!" Scabs and his own subordinate dove behind their own vehicle, cytokine bullets punching out the cruiser windows. Silence followed.

"Why'd they stop?" Jones whispered. "Can't see us?"

"Shhh." Thrax hissed, trying to listen for anything to give their attacker away. He glanced at the car side mirror. "This isn't your private car, right?"

Veins glanced up from readying his weapon. "No?"

"Good." He reached up and easily broke it off. Carefully he tilted it so that he could see across the small pock-marked parking lot. He thought he could just make out a figure laying on top of a broken down company truck when the mirror shattered; he dropped it.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. He's on top of that truck behind us." He clenched his left hand open and closed, for the millionth time feeling the loss of its full functionality.

"Can you get that started?" Veins nodded to his hand. "Jones and I'll cover you. Go get the son of a bitch."

Thrax took a breath feeling the fire spread along his wrist and congeal, in response his claw grew bright like an ember.

He kept low and then hoping he couldn't feel the shot of a cytokine bullet he stood and rounded the side of the cruiser. Shots immediately chewed up the ground around him until Veins and Jones fired back forcing their attacker to take cover. He sprinted behind a pile of debris.

"I know you're there virus!" The words might've made him uneasy if the cell's voice wasn't so nasally, it was hard to take him seriously. _Except he's got a weapon he knows how to fire._ "You think I wouldn't come prepared!" _Prepared for what?_

Something exploded on the other side of the debris pile, the blast lifting him like a doll and throwing him a good distance back. He inhaled in reflex and coughed, choking. "Thrax!"

 _Gas? What the fuck is this? Cytokine…_ He pushed himself up painfully, still coughing. A shadowy figure appeared, bearing down on him. _What the fuck is it with me? My innards rearranged, my hand crushed, almost blown up just a few months ago….what the fuck?_ The answer came as quickly as the internal question. _I'm built to handle this shit._

The gas was dense and thick, enshrouding everything but the alternating questions of asking if he was okay. "Thrax, answer me!" Veins yelled.

He was glad the two were cautious, didn't mean they didn't care it meant they had self-preservation. _They wouldn't be able to breathe in this. I can barely breathe."_

"Don't know why you didn't insist on comin' alone virus." Scabs appeared. "Explaining the death of a street cop would be a hellva lot easier than explainin' the death of a chief."

"What?" _We were set up._

"You shoulda burned this body to the ground when you had a chance. You really think Phlegmming had a handle on things? You think he was the one running the show here? Nah, Stoma was and now that that stupid little hiccup involving the ehrlichiosis is ending, he's gonna be back in tenfold."

"Anguli-Oris is a sleeper cell-"

Scabs smiled widely. "You're smarter than Stoma gives you credit for. We're everywhere el muerte rojo and we know everything, just like we know there aren't too many like you left which means that fucker that got away from Todd, 's gotta be related to you." The chief paused. "You're weak. You just rolled over and played dead when Colonic muzzled you."

He was finding it harder to listen to the chief's pontification as he glanced down numbly at his membrane, slowly darkening to a reddish-grey. _He's keeping me here to keep breathing this shit._ Images of Daemon flickered through his head, the virus had regained usage of his hands but the greyed membrane would never go away just like the stabbing pins and needles would never fade either. He hid his claw under his coat while he waited for the heat to return.

"-It's a movement virus, we ain't got a name yet but it's a following committed to ending the existence of germs like you. Only then can Frank be completely healthy."

"Frank needs all of us to survive you idiot. He can't live with no exposure to germs."

"That's where you're wrong. Why do you think those drones were being made? It wasn't just the Ehrlichiosis they'd be carting around, they were perfected bio-suits designed to hold poisonous shit germs carry. They wander the body safely, catch a few germs and meanwhile Frank's immune system stays happy. It was the perfect solution until you got involved, you and that little hybrid bitch." _Lindi._ "Anyway. Enough talk." Scabs raised his weapon.

"Yeah, enough talk." Thrax was in motion before the chief knew it, his boot coming up and hitting the cell in the stomach. The air knocked out of him, he fell backwards out of the fog with Thrax straddling him, his claw pointed precariously between the chief's eyes. He glanced towards the broken down truck, Anguli-Oris nowhere to be found. "Maybe I have changed." He murmured, glancing back at his victim. "Or maybe I just found something worth living for." He jammed his hand down, the chief flinching as a jagged streak of fire lit up by his head. Thrax slowly stood. "Let's go." He grabbed the cell by the neck and hauled him to his feet.

…..

 _Precinct 13_

Thrax made it to the bathroom before Veins was able to sic a squad medic on him. In the drive back to the Precinct his membrane returned to its normal healthy red but the internal pain didn't subside. Closing the bathroom door and locking it, he turned to the mirror seeing nothing out of the ordinary though he didn't know what he would be looking for. He coughed again, a fine misted saliva spraying the sink and bottom half of the mirror. "Damn it."

He jerked a few pieces of particle paper out of a box and went to wipe it up before freezing. The saliva was black. Shocked, he rubbed fingers along his teeth his tips coming back stained. For good measure he spat into the sink and watched in mixed emotions as black slowly slid down the drain.

A pounding on the door made him jump and regret it as his innards clenched around the pain. "Yeah?"

"You alright? Veins said you aren't getting out of seeing the medic." Jones's voice was muffled.

Thrax groaned. "I will if I leave."

"Let me reiterate-" Jones paused as Thrax yanked the door open. "- _I'm not_ letting you _leave_ until you see the medic. Just two minutes Thrax, c'mon." The white blood cell blocked his way back to his desk.

"I'm not seeing a medic Jones. End of story." He brushed past, locking the pain away to a place where he could ignore and almost pretend it didn't exist. "We have work to do and an epically corrupt system to try and fix."

….

 _Cerebellum Hall_

 _2:15pm_

Tom Colonic barely moved as the audio playback echoed in his office, the taped confession of Jim Scabs. When it ended his grey eyes switched to Thrax. "You sure you're okay?"

Being about the twelfth person to ask him in a span of two hours he wanted to snap his reply but didn't. That wasn't what you did when a friend asked about your well-being. _Friend._ "I'm fine."

"He won't see a medic." Jones blurted out unapologetically.

Thrax wished a look could have killed the cell. He wanted to retaliate with an insult, any insult but before he could form one Colonic looked his way. "Why not?"

"Because I _don't_ need to." He shot his partner a nasty look, daring him to argue.

"Danny?"

Veins had remained largely quiet throughout the ride to City Hall and the meeting. "Can't force him."

Colonic sat up straighter in his chair. "You've already experienced being shot by cytokine, that's fixable. Hurts like a bitch for a while, but fixable. This gas crap that's been engineered is a different animal. Not much research has been done with it. And that conversation with Scabs wasn't a two-second thing, you were in that gas for minutes. You're seeing someone and you're not getting out of it."

Thrax kept his face blank even as the need to cough grew to an uncomfortable height, but he refused to show anything. He could wait unti he was behind closed doors to hack.

"They're finding the workers making the various states of cytokine are getting really sick, some are even dying." Leah added. "My desk is getting deeper and deeper with their complaints and copies of lawsuits."

With no suitable comeback he looked away.

"Is it true, what he said about Stoma?" Veins changed the subject. "He's getting off?"

"Yeah." Colonic rubbed his eyes.

"How? There was physical evidence linking him to the distribution of ehrlichiosis."

"Stoma comes from old money and even older influence. Short of murder he could probably get out of everything."

Veins grumbled under his breath.

"Even with this tape?" Jones asked incredulous. "Scabs sung a good song, said Stoma is a part of the corruption."

"Doesn't matter." Colonic stood up, facing the window looking out over Frank City, his hands deep in his pockets. "I um, don't know if I have the stamina to run for mayor again. Before I took office I had this grand idea in my head to be here until the public got sick of me but that was before the ehrlichiosis-"

In the shadows, an unreadable expression crossed Leah's face as she listened with them to the mayor. "Taking office-I thought I was just inheriting a dysfunctional mess but Stan just-his stupidity blinded him and shit took over that is just too strong to fight now.

"Quite honestly, the only precincts I have complete faith are not corrupt is yours, precinct 1 and 14, down on the big toe. That leaves twelve I can't guarantee." Colonic turned back to them. "You're an exceptional officer Danny, but Ribosome's son is technically more qualified. He's schooled to be a chief, but you got the experience that's why Charlie fought like hell to get you in there instead of Ribosome and good thing he won that argument considering where Ribosome Sr. sitting currently…. The ehrlichia changed me, just like it changed you." He nodded to Veins. "Which is exactly what certain people were hoping for I think."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean?" Jones sat up straighter. "This was all planned you think? The ehrlichia sure… but creating a circumstance where you'd be weaker?"

Colonic sat. "Yes. Precinct 13 has always worked very closely with Cerebellum Hall. Some could argue that Precinct 13 is the number one place to be to get to bigger and better things. Theoretically Danny Veins as a private citizen, is the second most important being in this body, and who also has been affected by ehrlichia." Colonic fell silent, his gaze landing on Thrax again. "This means you're a target."

Thrax had only been half listening, at the mayor's words he was brought back to the present.

"Precinct 13 has always been exceptional." Leah explained. "You've made it extraordinary. Take down Danny and you, what does Precinct 13 become?"

Thrax scoffed. "I'm not that important. Maybe with Veins out of the picture the place will grind to a screeching halt for a week but not me." He paced away, wishing he could leave the conversation.

"Then why didn't Scabs just shoot you." Colonic asked softly, making him pause. _Why didn't he?_ "You need to get your ass to see a medic Thrax. Maybe you're right, maybe you are fine… I'd rather be told that then find out differently later." Colonic stood, pulling his jacket on. "I have to go see Jim Scabs." He made a face. "-Listen to his whiny excuses for why he's committed betrayal and then make a public speech about this whole mess. Should be fun. Keep me posted."

Veins stood with him, his attention on Thrax. "Let's go."

…

 _Cerebellum Hospital_

 _4:35pm_

Jones wasn't ready when Thrax stopped dead in his tracks in the entrance of the ER. "Dude, let's go."

"What the hell?" The virus ignored him as he stared at a female cell lounging at the front desk.

"Thrax….hello." Jones waved a hand in his face, breaking his attention. "Are you okay?"

Thrax glanced back at the woman, seeing she was not as pure white as he originally thought, nor was her thin body being consumed by red hot flames.

 _"Strange isn't it….."_ The whisper startled him so close to his ear. _"Almost as if you're losing your mind…."_

He forced himself to ignore everything but the reason why he was there. "Let's get this over with." They called his name soon enough, jumping him ahead to priority though he didn't know if they did it because he had a potential airway issue or if they didn't want him hanging in their lobby.

"Alright-" A petite cell appeared. "Oh- hi." Andromeda reddened as an awkward silence ensued.

Strangely he was relieved it wasn't Grace walking into his room. _They wouldn't give her my case anyway, emotionally compromised._ "Hey."

"What to tell me what happened?" She set to work taking vitals.

"Was on the job, breathed in some gas I shouldn't have." His throat burned, his suppression of coughing earlier creating a hard lump he couldn't pass.

"Cytokine gas." Jones added.

"Cytokine?" Annie looked up before quickly grabbing his chart. "They didn't write that, did you tell them?"

Jones shrugged. "I guess-I don't know."

"Have you been coughing?" She directed her question to Thrax.

"Yeah."

"A lot or a little?"

 _I don't know lady._

"He hasn't coughed in a while." Jones sat up in his chair straighter. "Why, is that an issue?"

"Yes it is… the less you cough it out the more congealed it gets inside you."

 _"Don't bother trying to fight the pain." Genix was enjoying himself, Thrax could tell from his tone. "It's called_ _cytokines, or at least that's what the humans call it. We like to refer to it as BAVV." He paused for possible dramatic effect Thrax didn't know or care. "Bad-Ass Virus Venom. Hurts like a bitch, doesn't it."_

 _Genix came over, yanking his cronies out of the way, both of who were still trying recover from Thrax's self-defense. He leaned against the trunk on his elbows and hands, staring at the virus. Thrax found he wanted to kill him but he held his impulsiveness in check, barely._

" _So. What are we gonna do about your little stunt here?"_

" _What stunt?" Thrax finally growled. "Your two lackeys attacked me first."_

 _Genix pursed his lips, and then he gave a dramatic sigh. "True, but one you had it coming you freak of nature and two, that's not what the cameras are gonna show." Genix gestured towards the precinct where two cameras were indeed visible. "You got alotta enemies here virus. And a good most of them are more than willing to help you towards your eventual damnation."_

" _Yeah." Thrax tried to straighten but the pain was too great. "What's that?"_

" _ **Your damnation? Why you choking on your own fluids of course. When the mayor finally gives the green light, whenever that will be, I'll be there to see them give you the needle and I'll watch as you gag on the entrails that dissolve and spew out of your mouth."**_

"It'll burn you from the inside out." Annie finished. "I have to get a doctor hold on."

The memory burned in his head, as much as he tried to ignore it the dead Genix's words kept ringing in his ears. " _You gag on the entrails that dissolve and spew out of your mouth."_ The words were louder than the memory, looking to the source of the voice Genix stood in the doorway, arms folded. " _Thought you could get away didn't you. Take my girl and live the good life Virus… well not this time. Like I said, I'd be there to watch your damnation._

"Yoohoo Thrax." A hard shake of his shoulder dissolved the traitorous cell. Annie was still standing in front of him, though serious concern on her face as she watched him glance at Jones fuzzily, the blood cell's hand having been waved in front of his face.

"Are you seeing anything?" She asked but didn't wait for an answer. "I'll be right back." She disappeared out of the room.

It hurt to breathe as a coldness came over him, unable to hold back a shiver worry spread across Jones's face. "Hang on." He disappeared from his line of sight and reappeared with a blanket. "You look like shit man."

The blunt observation was enough to bring him to his senses. "Thanks Jones." He tried to sit up straighter but pain flared up and down his spine like he was forcing a limb in the wrong direction. "Think this is how it ends?"

"Ends?" Jones repeated. "What are you talking about?" He asked quickly.

"Everything eventually dies, alone, doesn't matter whose with you."

…

 _Past_

Days stretched into weeks and before he knew it, a month had passed. For reasons he could only feel was stupid and selfish he stayed with the Cytes. Why? He didn't have an answer. He was pushing waste to the waiting transport when he heard his name being called barely above the noise of the factory. Instead of continuing to yell the foreman waved a phone. _Who would be calling me?_

It took a moment to navigate through the stares, flinching and muttering of insults but he finally reached the foreman on duty.

"Phone call." He handed the phone over. "Make it quick you know the rules about personal calls while on shift."

"I didn't ask for someone to call me." He snapped. _Maybe it's Herb or Edie?_ "Hello?"

There was nothing at first, a dead silence but then a slow inhale of breath followed by- "Hello Thrax."

 _Vinícius_

 _"_ What do you want?" He hissed. "I'm hanging up on you and do not contact me again-"

"Well that's fine… you can just pay attention to the news later then-I haven't decided if I want to raze the house or leave it as is. I'm leaning towards leaving it as is, my artwork is so satisfying to look at."

A chill spread through Thrax listening to the bacteria's words. He glanced to see if there was caller ID, he recognized the number in a sickening realization. "If you harm them-"

"Then get over here." Vinícius's tone turned harsh. "And Thrax, don't make me wait." The line went dead.

He lost track of how long he stood there holding the phone. It wasn't until the foreman returned he numbly came to his surroundings.

"You getting back to work or not?"

"I have to go." He passed the cell.

"Excuse me? No you will not!" The cell made the mistake of grabbing his arm. Thrax whipped around and sent him spinning into the office door. Before he could recover, Thrax was gone.

…..

The house looked normal from the outside, Vinícius keeping his word for the moment of not burning to the ground. He stayed on the sidewalk until the remembering of the patrolling Immunity got him off it before a cop decided to stop and ask him his business for being in the neighborhood. _They'd never believe I live here…._

Slowly he approached the front door, each step up onto the porch making his feet feel like they were encased in plaque balls. The door was open, the house silent. He crept through the dining room listening for anything to give away the bacterias's presence but there was nothing. _Maybe they left? Maybe the Cytes aren't home?_ He was prepared to use lethal force if it meant ridding his adopted family of the danger he brought with him into their home. _Inexcusable._

A small drop of something laid on the threshold of the dining room and kitchen, he stopped an unmistakable smell reaching his senses. _No….please no._ He moved forward, not caring about being quiet and rounded the kitchen island.

His hard life had forced him to grow up fast, there was no situation he couldn't handle like an adult but the late teenage mentality came crashing back in as he took in the sight of the second she-cell to care about him. The plasma was congealed and washed the cabinets and floor. She had fought hard, that much he could tell. He sank down next to her, grief freezing him though almost immediately it melted into something he could understand. _Rage._ He reached out, his hand shaking and gently closed her eyes and stood. Spyrah was in the doorway, her face blank.

"You know how he is Thrax." Her gaze went from Edie's body to him. "You never learn, you don't push Vinícius. He will always find the thing you care most about and rip it to shreds."

He scoffed, his breath hitched still. "Is that your way of apologizing? Because you fucking suck at it."

She remained quiet at first. "I suppose… considering he did the same to my husband and my daughter-" He hadn't expected her confession and she knew it. "I just learned how to turn _it_ off… otherwise it eats you from the inside out." She disappeared with the expectation of him following her. Hating himself, he did, his mind reeling at what he would tell Herb, tell Emilia. _I'm the cause of … her.._

Slowly he approached the living room, his thoughts on Herb's reaction and subsequent actions dying in his mind.

The cell was still alive but his normally blue membrane was quickly ashen to the sickly green color of Vinícius. His eyes rolled as saliva cakes the side of his face and the floor under him, tremors shook him.

Vinícius stood nearby. "Didn't I tell you…" He repeated. "Look at the damage you've created." He tsked. "Such a nice couple too. She was a fighter that one, in case you wanted to know."

Thrax barely heard him as he watched Herb struggle to breathe. The cell's eyes had widened at the sight of him. _He's still here enough to understand who I am._ Yet he refused to show emotion in front of his tormentors. _My tormentors? He's their's too."_

An evil smile lit Vinícius's thin face. "I'm going to freshen up darling, join me." He towed Spyrah to the stairs. It was then Thrax realized plasma was still on the bacteria's hands, leaking everywhere.

He breathed out, sinking down to the doctor's level, sorrow hitting him all over again. He wished there was a chance to fix him, at least save one of them but Vinícius was poisonous. Poison almost always led to the point of no return. He reached out, laying a hand on the trembling cell, recognition beginning to fade as the bacteria's venom was spreading to the cell's head. "I'm sorry." His left hand ignited and he jammed it into the doctor, wishing the final death to be quick. He got his wish as within seconds the fire consumed the body, leaving only a blackened imprint on the carpet.

Footsteps down the stairs told him the two bacteria returned but he didn't look at them. "Wow…" Vinícius stepped forward. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Thrax swallowed, his eyes landing on his still ignited weapon. Closing his eyes, something snapped within him. A coping mechanism drawing up steel walls around the pain of everything that had fucked him in life. Within moments the raw loss and pain was gone, locked away so he wouldn't ever feel that way again. He stood up.

"Course I did."


End file.
